The Glare of His Eyes
by Ekwy
Summary: Prequel to Anything Fiercer, sort of. What gave a young tomcat the strength to stand up and fight for his tribe? What created the Great Rumpus Cat? .:COMPLETED:.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: CATS doesn't belong to me, as you know by now. It's T.S. Eliot's and Andrew Lloyd Webber's. I'm just borrowing the characters, and I'll put them back in their places after I'm done.  
A/N: Okay, I couldn't help myself. This is the prequel of Anything Fiercer, or at least something like it. More is coming. Let me know what you think, would you?

**PROLOGUE**

The Peke lady growled at her enemies as her puppies whined and hurried to get behind her. She felt them shiver with fear, and that sparked her fury. They scared her pups. How _dared_ they? 

"You're wasting your time," she told the intruders. "You have no right. This is my place, this is Peke territory. If you come any closer, I'll have your head." 

The Pollicles bared their teeth. They were sharp, and discomfortingly large, but the lady did not back down. 

"This is Pollicle territory now," growled their leader. "We've been assigned to this neighbourhood, Peke, and we're going to clean out your filth, with force if we must." 

Another Pollicle took a look at the puppies behind her, and he grinned toothily. "Such pretty little pups you've got there. Such a shame if anything should happen to them, don't you agree?" 

"I swear, if you touch them, I'll..." 

"We're not afraid of a Peke bitch," snorted the leader and snapped at her. "We're giving you the opportunity to leave without fight. For the sake of your puppies, I suggest you take the chance while you still have it." 

The lady hesitated for a bit, and there was a glimpse of fear in her eyes. 

Her oldest pup looked up at her with large, scared eyes. "Momma?" he said. 

Her look of hatred faded into love, and she said: "Take your brothers and sisters with you and go outside. Momma's just going to talk to these... fellows for a little bit. I'll be right there." 

The puppy whimpered a little, but decided to be brave. He even dared to growl the slightest at the Pollicles as he exited, his siblings in tow. The lady turned to her adversaries again. 

"This is not over," she vowed. "You can't just come here and take everything away..." 

"This was never your home to begin with, Peke," replied the leader and smiled nastily. "Take comfort in the thought that the rest of your kind will join you soon." 

She threw him a look of pure hatred, maintaining eye contact for as long as possible before she turned her back at them and ran. 

The Pollicles laughed as her tail disappeared out the hole. The leader, a large dark mix-breed, barked loudly after her. They heard the scared whines of the puppies, and how the mother begged them to run faster. 

"Get them," said the leader. 

Two Pollicles immediately barked and set off into the velvet evening, teeth glimmering and eyes glowing with the thrill of the hunt. 

For these were the days of war. 


	2. A Kitten Like Others

**ONE  
A Kitten Like Others**

The hero had his nemesis in sight, and she was fierce. As the Pollicle Queen, the mighty Pattipawsette Sharp-tooth, she ruled the entire pack of stray dogs of the London alleys, and her teeth were stained with the blood of a thousand cats. Her claws were razors, able to pierce through the concrete of the pavement, and her eyes were yellow slits of madness. But she would meet her end today. The hero had vowed this, and so it would happen. 

He prepared his great leap. His tail lashed from side to side with excitement... no, not excitement. Righteous anger. Yes, that was much better. Altogether more heroic. He closed his eyes, focusing his energy to his legs, gathering strength. 

And he leapt. 

"Aha! Have at thee, you villainous fiend! Prepare to meet thy doom!" 

Pattipawsette Sharp-tooth shrieked and fell off the tire, on which she had been peacefully sleeping until now. She poked her head up after a second and glared viciously at her brother. 

"Dammit Pounce, what'd you do that for?" she roared. "I was just having a nice dream too!" 

Pouncival grinned. "I'm a hero, Patti. You're supposed to be the bad guy and fight me!" 

"Oh, I'll show you a bad guy if you don't go away and leave me alone!" hissed Pattipaws grumpily and climbed up the tire again. "Go and play with Tumble or something." 

Her brother pouted. "You're boring!" 

But he walked away anyway, to quest for his much more entertaining brother. He was bored, and actually in quite a bad mood. He always felt like that at this time of the year, since it was closing in on the day of his mother's death. He barely remembered his mother, but his father spoke of her a lot, to make sure her name was never forgotten. 

Pouncival had thought that maybe pouncing at Pattipaws would amuse him for a bit, since that was always fun, but his sister also felt the tension of the season and wouldn't play along. He was quite bummed out by this. Pattipaws had always used to play with him before when he was sad about mum, and she had a great way of making him forget his sorrows. 

The young tom strolled along the junkyard, trying to figure out if he was going to go and find Tumblebrutus or go and chat with Mistoffelees for a bit. He sometimes helped out the magical cat with various simple tasks, like gathering ingredients for various spells. Pouncival was good at finding things, and Mistoffelees could always use a paw. Besides, the magician's tasks were often difficult and took his mind off other things. 

He passed Bombalurina and Demeter, who were sunbathing on the TSE 1, and his heart skipped a beat at the sight of them, but especially at the sight of Bombalurina. He'd had a crush on the gorgeous red queen for quite a while now, and somewhere in his poor, juvenile heart he was sort of hoping that maybe one day she'd abandon the Rum Tum Tugger and realize that hey, maybe that Pouncival wouldn't be so bad a tomfriend after all? 

He deliberately walked slower as he passed them, in the vague hope that maybe Bombalurina would call him over to her. She didn't. She probably didn't even notice he was there. Pouncival sighed sadly and continued on his way. 

Suddenly someone pounced on him. The someone attacked from behind, pressing Pouncival against the ground and made it very hard for him to breathe. He _hated_ it when Tumblebrutus did that. 

"Gotcha! Heh, heh, betcha didn't see that coming!" 

Pouncival wheezed out a reply and tried to stand up, but that was hard when you had an overenthusiastic younger brother standing on your back. He had to settle with trying to figure out a proper revenge once he got free. 

Once Tumblebrutus had decided that Pouncival had suffered enough, he gracefully jumped off and sauntered up to his brother's head. 

"Wanna play?" he asked hopefully. "We could attack Cassandra and listen to her threatening us, that's always fun." 

Pouncival was first going to say no, but then he saw the slightly pleading look in Tumblebrutus's eyes. His brother was feeling no better about the season than he did, so Pouncival smiled. "Cassandra's at the vet's today. Dad told me this morning. And when she's back we're not allowed to mess with her, because she might be in pain and it's not nice to mess with sick people. Said dad." 

Tumblebrutus nodded. "'Kay. Shall we play hide-and-go-seek, then?" 

Pouncival thought this was a very good idea, and Tumblebrutus, after having resolved the argument on who was going to count first, cheerily ran off to hide. Pouncival, who knew his brother was a master in hiding, only waited for ten seconds before yelling: 

"Ready or not, here I come!" 

* * *

There was an old, abandoned warehouse not far from the Jellicle junkyard. It had been locked up for many years now, its only inhabitant a young tomcat who needed a place where he could be in peace and quiet, and had decided that the old office was ideal. The building itself was within hearing distance from the Jellicles, but it was not a place that anybody went to on a regular basis. 

The windows of the office had been nailed shut and barred with planks, and therefore the office was illuminated by large blue orbs that floated eerily through the air like balloons. In the middle of the room stood a couple of wooden boxes that had been turned upside-down to make a table, and more boxes were piled up at the sides against the walls, making cupboards for magical ingredients and spell books. There was an old fireplace which was rarely used, and on the cold ashes stood a rusty kettle. 

By the table sat the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees. He was reading intently from a very thick and very dusty book. Occasionally he looked up and into a broken mirror that stood leaning against a pile of books in front of him. Oddly enough, this mirror didn't show him his reflection, but the image of a gang of Pollicles lying in a dark cellar. Mistoffelees couldn't hear what any of the dogs were saying, but he saw that they were laughing at something. 

"Very, very bad," he muttered to himself and kept on reading. "Very, very bad." 

There was a war brewing in the streets of London. It had been going on for months, random fighting breaking out here and there between the two battling dog tribes, but now things had changed rapidly and for the worse. It had begun with the murder of the Peke mother and her five puppies in Soho a week ago. Since he had received those news, Mistoffelees had been scrying in his mirror day and night for changes, to be the one to warn the Jellicles. 

Jellicles always got hurt in Pollicle war. What with more dogs out on the streets and Jellicles never able to defend themselves against their superior strength, it was unavoidable. Sure, the Pekes and the Pollicles would fight each other, given the chance, but if they found themselves without adversaries then cats would do just fine. 

That was why Mistoffelees was studying the book in front of him so closely, occasionally frowning and looking things up in an encyclopaedia of magic. He was looking for a way to help out. Magic was his talent, what he did best. He was good, better than the Twins they'd said, and what was the use of him having all this power if he couldn't use it for something that could help? He knew he'd seen a recipe for a strength potion somewhere in this book. He just had to find it, which took its sweet time. 

Finally he smiled and nodded. He had it. It was a very old recipe, from a time where there had been vicious wildcats in these parts. Mistoffelees read through it a couple of times. It didn't look impossible. Frankly, it looked simple enough for him to do, although gathering the ingredients would be a difficult task. 

Well, he'd better get started. 

Rather cheerfully now, Mistoffelees went up to his cupboard and started reading labels. 

* * *

Pouncival looked around the junkyard. Tumblebrutus was nowhere to be seen, just like he'd expected. He sat off in a random direction to find his brother, jumping lightly from junk-pile to junk-pile. Then he suddenly stopped, and sniffed the air. His face scrunched up from the smell, which came from the room at the second floor of the closest warehouse. Pouncival knew that was Mistoffelees's hideout, and he wondered if the magical cat was doing something exciting. He could almost _see_ the smell, a faint outline that made the air tremble, like it did above the asphalt on a scorching summer's day. 

He didn't recognize the smell. It wasn't completely unpleasant, just very strong; an intense, eye-watering odour that was suddenly everywhere around him. Pouncival hurried up and squeezed himself through the barred-up door of the warehouse. Uncertainly he ascended the dwindling metal staircase that went up to the office, trying not to look down. 

"Misto?" he called out and scratched the door, which was not entirely closed and yielded to his light push. "Hey Misto, are you around here?" 

The room would have been dark, if it had not been for the bright blue orbs that floated just below the ceiling. Right now, due to the smell, the magical sparks inside the orbs had a thin red frame. 

In front of the fireplace stood Mistoffelees. He was humming a strange little tune to himself as he stirred the cauldron with a large ladle. It was filled to the brim with water, and Pouncival heard the light splashes as things were dropped in it. Scattered on the table were small piles of herbs, and he could also see a few brilliant gems of various colours. The herbs were what gave out the smell. 

"Misto?" said Pouncival, a little calmer. "What are you doing?" 

The magical cat didn't look up. He was completely focused on the stirring and the humming. Pouncival sat down and waited patiently, knowing that he wouldn't be able to talk to Mistoffelees until he was finished with whatever it was he was doing. 

After a few minutes the magician stopped his humming and looked up. He seemed surprised to see Pouncival there. 

"Oh hello, Pounce," he said. "Been here long?" 

"Not very," replied Pouncival. "I was just coming in here to check out this new and highly fascinating smell you've got going on here." 

"Smell?" Mistoffelees sniffed the air. "I don't feel anything. Must be because I've been here a while." 

Pouncival shrugged and poked a gem absentmindedly with a paw. "Don't you want to come up and play instead?" he suggested after a sudden moment of inspiration. "Tumble and I are right in the middle of hide-and-go-seek, but I can call for him and we can start over, if you'd like to join us." 

Mistoffelees smiled a little. "That's nice of you, Pounce, but I'm busy." 

"What are you doing, anyway?" Pouncival looked curiously at the strange soup in the cauldron. "Is it a potion?" 

The magician nodded, and grinned a little. "Curiosity killed the cat, you know." 

"I have eight more lives," said Pouncival nonchalantly. "What does it do?" 

"If I tell you, you promise to keep it to yourself? Don't tell anyone, and especially not Munkustrap. He might not like it." When Pouncival nodded eagerly Mistoffelees continued. "It's far from done yet, but when it is, I'm hoping for a strength potion. It's supposed to be some sort of protection to guard us against the Pollicles. Bad things are happening in London. Did you know that?" 

Pouncival shook his head silently. 

"Well, that's how it is anyway. War is on the verge of breaking out, and it's basically badness all around. I think this potion would really help, but I'm not sure. It's complicated. A lot harder than anything I've ever done before." 

"Anything I could do?" 

Mistoffelees thought about it. "Well, I could certainly use an assistant for this. Two heads do think better than just one, even if one of those heads happen to belong to you." 

"Hey!" 

The magician ignored him. "There are some ingredients that I could use the help in gathering. I have all the herbs I'll need, but there are some things that... well, take a look." 

Pouncival peeked into the magic book and squinted to read the recipe. "'The Hair of a Wolf'?" He stared at Mistoffelees. "How are we supposed to get the hair of a wolf? Even if we could find a wolf in London, it'd be suicide!" 

"That's no problem, Pounce. It's a very old recipe, and I'm fully convinced that a hair from any Pollicle we can find would do just fine." 

"Oh. Well, that's a relief then. Any chance we can find a tiny little Chihuahua to steal a hair from?" 

"We'll see." 

* * *

Macavity raised an eyebrow and looked at his agent. 

"Quite sure of this, are you?" he asked casually. "I do hope you're not lying to me. I would be so awfully cross if you lied to me." 

The agent didn't dare a nervous smile, or to even look up. "Yessir. I'm sure, sir." 

"A strength potion... From that little magical brat?" Macavity thoughtfully scratched his chin with a claw. "This is... interesting information. I think I might pay little Mistoffelees a visit, just to make sure he does everything correctly. Strength potions are so very difficult to get right." He nodded at his agent. "You may go." 

The agent wasted no time, but darted out of the room as fast as he possibly could. Soon a beautiful white Persian queen came sassing in, a seductive smile on her lips. Macavity gave her his best leer and gestured for her to come over to him. 

"Did that tom give you some good news, darling?" purred Griddlebone into his ear as she curled up in front of him on his pillow. "Is there a new and wonderful plan forming in your head right this moment?" 

"There might be," smirked Macavity. "There might be, indeed. I got me some Jellicle news, and now I'm planning to go and see an acquaintance. It shall be most rewarding. Perhaps you would like to join me? I would like for you to meet him." 

Griddlebone's blue eyes sparkled. "Would he give me something pretty?" 

"Oh, I'm sure of it. I'm sure he'd find something in his little filthy hideout that he could bring you, and if he doesn't I shall claw his eyes out for you." 

Griddlebone smiled and nuzzled him affectionately. "You do know how to make a girl feel special, darling..." 


	3. An UnWelcome Visitor

A/N: **Eponine Poe:** Yes, "scrying" is definitely a real word. It is a verb, and it means "to divine by gazing into crystals," according to Rhymezone Dot Com

**TWO  
An Un-Welcome Visitor**

"Gyaaaaah!" 

The German Shepherd snapped irritably after Pouncival as the kitten bounced off with a few strands of hair in one paw. It was very fortunate for Pouncival that the dog was old and tired, and wasn't about to chase after him like he would have done in the good old days. But the hairs for the potion had been taken care of, and Pouncival gracefully jumped up on the surrounding stonewall of the dog kennel. There he smiled, turned around, and poked his tongue at out at the German Shepherd. 

"Neener, neneer, nee-ner!" he shouted gleefully. "Thank you, Mr. Doggy!" 

"That was unnecessary," said Mistoffelees, who was sitting in the tree at the other side of the wall. In front of him stood a green glass bottle, which the magician held both his paws around to make sure it didn't fall. 

"Oh yeah? Well next time _you_ get the bloody hairs," muttered Pouncival. "And we'll see what _you_ find necessary." 

Mistoffelees ignored him and held out the bottle. "Here you go," he said. "That should be everything." 

Pouncival carefully poked down the hairs into the bottle, and Mistoffelees corked and shook it. The liquid in the bottle, which had been clear up until now, took the colour of muddy water. A balsamic smell rose up through the cork and made the two cats' eyes tear up. 

"It doesn't look very tasty," said Pouncival. "Is it done now?" 

"It should stand on the table in the hideout for a while, according to the recipe," said Mistoffelees and looked contentedly at the bottle. "Then it will be ready for tasting." 

He took the bottle in his mouth, and they climbed down from the tree. Slowly they made their way back to the junkyard in silence. 

"Are you going to tell Munkustrap about the potion?" asked Pouncival after a while. "I mean, he should know." 

Mistoffelees stopped and put the bottle on the ground to speak. "No, I can't tell him yet. We don't know if it's working." 

"But if it _does_ work? Will you tell him?" 

The magician was quiet for a bit. "Yeah, sure," he said finally. "If it works, I'll tell everybody, and then I'll make it again so that they all can have a sip and be strong." 

"Oh. Good." 

They started walking once more. Pouncival didn't speak again until they had reached the hideout, and Mistoffelees had placed the bottle on its spot on the table. They stood and looked at it for a while. Their saviour. 

"So you're going to drink it, are you?" said Pouncival quietly, almost reverently. "You're really sure about it?" 

Mistoffelees nodded. "A magician always tries something before he lets one of his charges taste it. That's the first rule I learned from the Twins. You should always test it on yourself, so that you don't risk somebody else's life." 

"It's a good rule." 

"Yeah." 

Silence. 

"So," said Pouncival suddenly, "let's say that something goes wrong, okay? I don't know, you stirred the potion too little or too much or something. Would it be dangerous?" 

"Maybe. Like I said, I've never tried anything like this before. And I'm still learning this trade." 

"But you're good. The Twins said so when they first saw you. I heard the stories from when they found you. Jennyanydots told me that you were lying in a puddle, because it had been raining that day, and you were sleeping, and there were little sparkles flying around you..." 

"Yeah. I heard the stories too. But I don't remember any of that, and it doesn't matter. The talent is there, but I lack practice. And practice is what makes a magician, in the end." 

"If you get sick from this potion, who should I go to for help? No one knows about it." 

"I won't get sick." 

"You don't know that." 

Mistoffelees paused. "True, I don't. But I don't feel like..." He tensed suddenly, and the tips of his black ears vibrated as if they'd picked up something. "Did you hear that?" 

Pouncival got very, very quiet and listened. "No, I didn'..." He interrupted himself, for there it was. 

Soft, padding steps in the staircase. They were the steps of someone who was trying to be very silent, and if Mistoffelees hadn't had his magic, he probably wouldn't have picked up on it. The magician's paws started glowing bright blue. 

"Pounce," he whispered. "Take the potion and hide. We've got company. I can... take care of it." 

"I'm not leaving you here," hissed Pouncival. 

"Don't try and be brave, you silly kitten. Go now, or I'll chase you out myself." 

Pouncival took the bottle and took in his mouth. The smell was still seeping through the cork and it tickled his nose, filling him with the most wonderful feeling of relief. Nothing could really happen if he just held on to this bottle, he knew. Nothing really bad at all... 

"Pounce, I swear that if you don't..." 

Mistoffelees had not the time to finish his sentence, for suddenly he was swept aside and hit the wall, full force. Pouncival froze. He saw his friend crumble to the ground, and he knew he had just one second to react. Someone was there. Someone who was quite probably very dangerous. No one with friendly intentions would slam Mistoffelees into the wall. 

Pouncival turned on the spot and dove behind a cupboard. It wasn't the best of hiding places, but the windows were locked and impossible to get through unless you were a mouse. His only hope was that the intruder wouldn't spot him, and if he managed to stay really quiet he might be able to sneak away out the door. A nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach called him a coward for leaving Mistoffelees behind, but he had been told to do it, and... Well, Mistoffelees was very persuasive when he put his mind to it. 

The kitten crouched behind the cupboard and tried to make sure that his breathing was inaudible and that no part of him was showing. Then he tried to listen. 

There were two cats in the room with the unconscious Mistoffelees. One female, which steps he had been hearing, and one male. The only explainable reason for neither Mistoffelees nor Pouncival hearing him enter the hideout was that he must have floated up the stairs, and that solved the mystery on who he was. 

Macavity. 

'There are barriers protecting this place,' though Pouncival frantically as he tried to calm his beating heart. 'How did he get through the barriers? He shouldn't even be here!' 

"Is that my new present?" asked a queen's voice conversationally. 

Of course. The Lady Griddlebone. She was the only cat who dared to follow Macavity everywhere. Pouncival had seen her once, when he had been out with Tumblebrutus and Pattipaws, and they'd been in what dad called a "bad neighbourhood." They'd seen a beautiful Persian just like the Lady walking towards the marina, and had been so freaked out about it that they'd run straight home. The Lady had many stories told about her. The one with pirates was by far the nicest one. 

"Too bad you knocked him out, darling," Griddlebone continued. "He could have been amusing." 

"Magician's skulls are so fragile," said Macavity, and there was a grin in his voice. "He'll come around soon enough, my pretty. Now we shall take a look around, while he sleeps." 

Pouncival heard the two villains dig around the hideout, Griddlebone occasionally making a little delighted squeal as she found something pretty. After a while Mistoffelees groaned, and Pouncival dared to take a peek out into the room to see how his friend was doing. 

Macavity had his back turned to his hiding place, which was a relief. Griddlebone stood leaning casually against the table, smiling sweetly at Mistoffelees. Pouncival looked at the cupboards. The boxes had been tipped over in the search for the strength potion, their contents a stinking mess on the floor. The gems that had been on the table a few days ago, when they had started making the potion, had clearly been removed from their little wooden box and were now quite probably in her possession. 

The magician hadn't as much as opened his eyes before Macavity slammed him up against the wall and held him there, his paws firmly pinned down. 

"Hello, Mistoffelees," he said, smiling. "A little someone told me that you were in the making of a potion. I think that you are much too young for such complicated magic, little Mistoffelees. Maybe you should just give me the potion, let the more experienced sorcerer handle it. Where is it, pray tell?" 

Mistoffelees's eyes darted to the place on the table where the bottle had been standing just a few minutes ago, and when he saw that it wasn't there and that Macavity was very upset about it, he exhaled slowly. Good old Pounce. 

"I think I'm old enough to decide what is too difficult for me, old tom," he said smoothly. "And you really have to investigate your sources more. I have no idea what you're talking about." 

Macavity didn't do anything at first. Pouncival couldn't see his expression, but it was probably not very happy. Then the Napoleon of Crime turned around, quickly, and started to walk towards the hiding place. 

Pouncival's heart stopped, and then pounded twice as fast as before. He had two choices. He could either hand over the potion to Macavity and maybe, but probably not, live to see another day. Or he could... 

He did. He tore the cork from the bottle and was about to turn it upside down when he thought about what he and Mistoffelees had gone through to make the potion. It would be their salvation. It would be a help. It had taken them such a long time to make, and now he was going to pour it out? 

He only hesitated for a second, but he had to make a choice fast, and he chose to do something really stupid. He drank the potion, forcing down every drop, for every drip he swallowed was one that Macavity wouldn't get. When he had finished he felt dizzy and light-headed, but wrote that off as being a result of lack of oxygen while he drank. 

Suddenly Macavity was in front of him, yellow eyes blazing. 

"You're too late," said a gravely voice that Pouncival surprisingly had to realize was his own. "I poured it all out." 

He showed the empty bottle. Macavity bared his teeth. 

"You are a liar, kitten," he hissed. "I smell it. What is to stop me from taking you with me and gut you open like a fish to get the potion?" 

There was a slight fizzing sound, like a can of soda being opened, and suddenly Griddlebone screamed. Macavity turned around. The white Persian was locked firmly in Mistoffelees's grip, and he had conjured up a fine web of lightning around her. 

"She moves, or you move, and her pretty fur gets awfully singed," said Mistoffelees with an eerie calm. "Step away from the kitten. He's got nothing to do with this." 

Macavity regarded the scene, clearly thinking it through. Large tears started to well up in Griddlebone's eyes, and she sobbed silently. After minutes that stretched into eternities, Macavity smiled. 

"Go ahead, little Mistoffelees," he said. "You go right ahead. Do you think I'd care? Let's see if you've got some guts, after all." 

"Darling?" whispered Griddlebone. 

It could have been in Pouncival's imagination, but he thought he saw Macavity flinch. It was gone in a flash, and the Napoleon of Crime quickly rearranged his expression to that of a mocking sneer. 

Mistoffelees hesitated. His eyes darted to Griddlebone, who was crying as if her heart had just been broken. Maybe it had been. The moment of uncertainty made Macavity laugh. 

"You're an idiot, Mistoffelees. A cowardly idiot. Why have power at all when you will not use it?" 

"I'll do it," said Mistoffelees, but his voice faltered. "I swear I'll do it..." 

"Of course you won't. Because you fear the consequences of you giving in to the power. But watch now, and learn." 

His paw on Pouncival's head was warm and almost gentle. Then Pouncival heard something snap with a deafening CRACK, and a wave of pain came shooting down his spine, and things went dark. 

* * *

Pouncival opened his eyes and immediately wished he'd stayed unconscious. He was lying on the floor of the office, which was sort of expected, and Mistoffelees was leaning over him. 

"You're awake," said the magician and heaved a sigh of relief. "That's... that's good. Very good." 

There was not a part of Pouncival that wasn't hurting. Even the tip of his tail hurt, and that was saying something. He tried to sit up, but abandoned the idea when he discovered that his muscles wouldn't obey. 

"I hurt," he said, just to say something. 

"I am not surprised at all about that, out of many reasons," said Mistoffelees. "But you should be thankful for being back. A lot of cats don't, after Macavity's done with them. Do you need help to sit up?" 

"Yeah..." 

Together they helped in getting Pouncival to lean against the wall. His body felt strange. There wasn't just pain, but a strange feeling of having been _altered_ somehow. Like something had been taken out of him and put back, but slightly askew. Something was wrong, and he couldn't put his paw on it exactly. 

"You drank the potion," said Mistoffelees after having made sure that his assistant was as comfortable as he could be. "Are you feeling okay? No signs of poisoning or anything that your father would kill me for?" 

"Just... pain and all around weirdness," said Pouncival and groaned. "My head feels like it's going to fall off..." 

Mistoffelees laughed nervously. "Heh. Yes. Mm. Heh. Let's hope it doesn't, okay?" 

Pouncival looked at him strangely. "Why are you sounding so strange? Is... is something wrong with me?" 

"No!" said the magician a little too quickly. "Not... exactly," he added hesitantly. "Not anymore, anyway. Heh. Do you want something to eat?" 

"What do you _mean_ 'not any more'?" asked Pouncival suspiciously. "Did something happen to me? Did Macavity do anything?" 

Mistoffelees didn't answer. He seemed to be thinking it through from every angle first. "What do you remember from Macavity's visit?" he asked finally. 

"Well, he came for the potion, you wouldn't tell him where it was, he found me, I drank the potion, there was a lot of threatening going on..." 

"And then what? What do you remember from when he put his paw on your head?" 

Pouncival thought about it. "It... hurt. Very intense pain. I think he struck me, or something." He looked surprised as he thought of one particular detail. "Just... I had just made him upset, he's much, much stronger than I am, and I'm just a kitten, and he... why didn't he kill me? I thought that was what he did to cats that made him mad." 

"That is sort of the issue at hand," said Mistoffelees slowly, carefully choosing his words now. "Because you see... he did." 


	4. Pain and Horror

**Eponine Poe:** You are quite right, and I shall correct the error right away.

**THREE  
Pain and Horror**

"I'm... he... what?" stuttered Pouncival. 

He raised a paw and touched his neck, which made him flinch in pain. Something underneath his skin adjusted and healed with a dull groaning of his bones. 

"Ehm, yeah," said Mistoffelees and tried a nervous smile. "I wasn't really sure on how to tell you. Snapped neck, highly unpleasant." 

"I _died_?" 

"You were gone for about 30 minutes, give or take one. I was starting to give up on you." 

Pouncival stared. "You brought me back?" 

"Yep. Using these babies." Mistoffelees waved his paws about with a proud look on his face. "Electrical shocks got your heart going again." 

"But Macavity _snapped_ my _neck_! I should still be _dead_!" Pouncival had a distinct feeling that he was getting hysterical. 

Mistoffelees shrugged. "You drank the potion, Pounce. It wasn't done yet, and you drank it. It must have healed you or something." 

Pouncival paused and rubbed his sore neck. "I'm immortal now?" 

The magician snorted and shook his head. "No silly, not immortal! You still needed me to start your heart back up. But I'd say that you're pretty hard to hurt right now. The effect might vanish with time, though." 

"Huh." Pouncival stared out into nothing for a bit, processing this new information. "Where did Macavity go?" he asked finally. 

Mistoffelees nodded his head toward the stairs. "Munkustrap and Alonzo showed up. They'd heard the noise and thought they'd come check it out." He smiled. "As always, their timing is impeccable. I won't tell you the details, but it was quite a rumpus." 

"Rumpus..." mumbled Pouncival. "Really." 

"Yes. Macavity isn't stupid enough to stick around when he is clearly outnumbered. Griddlebone followed him. I don't think she had much choice." 

"So your secret hideout isn't so secret anymore, is it?" 

Mistoffelees shrugged. "I can get a new hideout. I'm thinking something below ground... Maybe a laboratory. I think that would be nice." 

"Have you told Munks and Alonzo about..." Pouncival made a vague gesture at the empty bottle, which was now lying in pieces on the floor. 

The magician shook his head. "They think I was making soup." 

"_Magical_ soup?" 

"Just soup. They're surprisingly gullible. _Yes_, I will tell them," he groaned at his friend's look. "When the time is right, and we know for sure that you won't, you know, explode or turn into a pot of begonias or something like that..." 

"Was that a risk? You never told me that was a risk!" 

"Well, _you_ weren't supposed to take the bloody potion, were you? It was meant for me! And it wasn't finished. Any side-effects are totally not my fault." 

"I'd believe it more if you weren't smirking like that while you said it," muttered Pouncival sulkily. 

Mistoffelees grinned brightly. "I'm sorry, I just... I've never succeeded in something like this before. It's quite a step." 

"Whoop-dee-doo for you." 

The magical cat sighed. "Go home and rest now, Pounce. I want you back here in the morning, to take some simple tests. Everything should feel very different tomorrow, once you've gotten some sleep." 

Pouncival was about to protest, but the groaning of his body was far too loud for him to ignore, so he got on his feet and stood swaying back and forth for a moment. He felt odd, dizzy and disoriented. He wasn't really sure how he was going to get back to the junkyard, but it had to work somehow. He took a few steps and, very gently, fell forwards. He was lucky Mistoffelees caught him before he hurt himself. 

"Ooo-kay..." muttered the magician and struggled to keep the much larger tom standing. "Easy there. Come on, one step at the time, Pounce. I'll help you out. Don't worry. You'll be all right." 

* * *

Pouncival slept, and as he slept the pain was working his body, starting at the tip of his ears and ending in his back paws. The pain bored itself into his subconscious and made him dream bloody dreams of screams and horror. Finally it faded away, leaving nothing but a slight tingly feeling in his body. 

Pouncival awoke. He felt the tingle vanish like a passing dream, and suddenly he was more at ease and well rested than he had ever been. He took a deep breath and sat up. It was strange, like he was doing it for the first time and hadn't noticed what a wonderful thing it was, to sit up and see the world again with new eyes, to fill your lungs with life-giving air... 

As he sat there he became aware of many things that he'd never noticed before. Since he was a feline, naturally his eyesight and hearing had always been good. He was used to noticing small things and find endless amusement in following the gravity defying movements of a piece of dust in the air. But now he... felt things. He _felt_ that there was a fly hovering over the junkyard outside the pipe in which he slept, he _felt_ that Jellicles were talking animatedly, he _felt_ that his father was poking his head into the pipe seconds before he actually did. 

"Pouncival?" said Asparagus quietly. "How are you feeling?" 

Pouncival let go of a held-in breath and smiled vaguely. This was a good feeling. This was a _great_ feeling. He was stronger than he had ever been, he knew it. He was _powerful_. He could fight anything now; different tactics and manoeuvres went through his head at an amazing speed. He saw lights surrounding his father's head, and he smiled a little. 

"I feel much better, thanks," he answered and scratched himself behind an ear. "What happened?" 

"Well, Mistoffelees showed up carrying you and he said you were sick... Did you hear Macavity was close to the junkyard yesterday?" Asparagus sighed deeply. "He'll be showing up in the middle of the Jellicle Ball next, I suppose..." He smiled a little sadly. "Are you ready for today, then?" 

Pouncival blinked in confusion before he remembered. His mother. It was the day of her death, and they were supposed to go to the park and remember her. He nodded. 

"I'm ready, dad." 

"Good. Your siblings are already waiting." 

Pouncival walked out into the pale sunshine. It was quite a lovely day, cool but sunny, and the air smelt fresh. In the middle of the junkyard stood Pattipaws and Tumblebrutus and waited for the rest of their family. Pattipaws looked like she'd been crying, and Tumblebrutus was serious, for once. 

"Hey," he said quietly and smiled a little. "You feel better now?" 

"Yeah," said Pouncival and returned the smile. "A bit." 

The little family started walking, Asparagus and Pattipaws in front and Pouncival and Tumblebrutus following. They walked in silence, thinking about the one person who should be with them and wasn't, due to a cruel twist of fate. Soon they reached Kensington Gardens, the park that she had loved and been to more times than Asparagus could count. They still didn't speak, but continued through the gates and followed the road to the Round Pond. There, by a bench they sat down, ignoring the humans that pointed at them and whispered among themselves "look, the little kitty family is out for a walk!" 

Asparagus was quiet for a while, looking out over the pond and the swans swimming across it. Then he spoke. 

"Noilly," he said softly. "That was her name, and her name we shall always remember. She left us too soon, but we won't forget her name. Noilly." 

"Noilly," his kittens chorused. 

They relaxed a little. The worst part of the remembrance ceremony was already over. 

"I miss the way she'd sing to us when we were born," said Pattipaws. "Her voice was calm and soothing, and I always fell asleep right away." 

Pouncival smiled a little. He had vague memories of his mother, since he had been just a few months old when she died, but he did remember the singing, and the feeling of warmth next to him. 

They spoke of Noilly, of how good she'd been and how much they'd loved her, and how much they loved each other. Pattipaws started crying once, and Tumblebrutus buried his face in his father's fur that they wouldn't see his tears, but Pouncival couldn't cry. Maybe it was because he was the older brother, and older brothers didn't cry, but it was also because he felt things different now. He still grieved his mother, of course. He would always grieve her. But the feeling had been in him for almost his entire life, ever since she had stepped in front of that car, and it was a part of him now, like the rest of his personality. It was fused into him and made him what he was. 

When the ceremony was over, Asparagus and his little family went back to the junkyard. There Pattipaws went away from them, walking over to her queen friends to get back to her normal life of gossip as quickly as possible. Pouncival watched her go. 

He should go and see Mistoffelees. He had promised he would when he felt better, and physically, he had never felt this good. He just wasn't sure he could leave his father like this. Asparagus always took the remembrance ceremony the hardest. He had been with Noilly ever since they were both kittens. There had never been any other queen but her for him, and her death had been a huge blow. His kittens had been his only comfort, and it was due to them that he didn't perish in his grief. So Pouncival didn't want to leave him right now. Not on this day. 

Asparagus smiled a little at his oldest son. "You can go and play, if you want," he said. "I'll be all right." 

"Dad..." 

"No really. It's fine. You're growing up. Play for as long as you can, because soon you'll be an adult." He nuzzled his son affectionately. "Go and play with your brother." 

Tumblebrutus had gone off to find something to eat, and Pouncival figured he'd join him. He was about to run after his brother, but then he thought of something. He still hadn't paid back Tumblebrutus for that pounce attack about a week ago, and this was the perfect opportunity. He said goodbye to his father, who went off in search of some adults, and snuck after Tumblebrutus. 

Soon he felt the same exhilarating feeling that he always got when following something that couldn't see him. He crept close to the ground, his tail waving back and forth, his eyes gleaming. Suddenly Tumblebrutus was gone. He must have spotted Pouncival, and hid behind some junk. Pouncival stopped walking and looked around. 

Someone jumped. He felt it moments before it happened, and acted on instinct. Without even thinking, Pouncival balanced on his front paws and kicked the attacker in the stomach with his hind legs, sending him flying. 

Tumblebrutus hit the old washing machine, and he hit it hard. There was a surprised yelp of pain as he crumbled to the ground with a confused and hurt look in his eyes. To his horror, Pouncival saw a few specks of blood trickle out of his brother's nose. He ran up to him, apologizing profusely. 

"Tumble! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to..." 

Tumblebrutus stared at him incredulously. He raised a paw to his nose and looked at the blood that stained it. "You hurt me," he said in surprise. "How did you do that? You're not supposed to do that." 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, it wasn't meant to be so hard, I'm so sorry..." 

"I'm... I'm fine..." Tumblebrutus tried to stand up, but got too dizzy and had to sit down again. He blinked a few times. 

Pouncival felt like crying. He'd hurt his brother. There was no excuse for doing this. 

"Wait here," he said hurriedly. "I'll get Jenny and Jelly, and they'll make it all better. Just wait here, okay, Tumble?" 

"Mmm... My head hurts. Tired." 

'I can't leave him,' thought Pouncival miserably. 'I don't know what's wrong with him... He might pass out.' 

What was he going to do? 

"Help!" he called out. "We need help!" 

Thankfully he didn't have to wait long before someone showed up. 

"What's wrong, Pouncival?" asked Demeter carefully as she came running. She stopped and gasped when she saw the dazed and confused Tumblebrutus. "Oh my... What happened?" 

"We were playing," said Pouncival weakly. "And he got hurt... I need someone to sit with him while I run to get Jenny and Jelly." 

"I'll run and get them, you stay with him. He might be concussed, just talk with him, force him to stay awake!" 

She was already running, and disappeared behind a dumpster. Pouncival tried to make Tumblebrutus focus on him. 

"Tumble, I need you to stay awake, now," he said despairingly. "Don't fall asleep, Tumble. I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to hurt you." 

His brother muttered something. His eyes were falling together. 

"Nononono, look at me! Don't you dare close your eyes!" 

He gently shook Tumblebrutus, forcing him awake. 

'Demeter, hurry...' 

He sat there for ten minutes or more, ten excruciating minutes of not knowing whether or not he'd killed his brother. Sometimes Tumblebrutus would groan something about his head hurting or that he was tired and wanted to sleep. Every time he spoke Pouncival was washed away in a wave of relief to hear anything being said at all, and every time he fell silent again, Pouncival would shake him carefully to get more words out. 

Finally Demeter came, with Jennyanydots and Asparagus in tow. After them came the Rum Tum Tugger, who must have offered to help carry the hurt Tumblebrutus to the car. 

"What happened?" asked Jennyanydots as she looked over the wounded kitten. "Pouncival?" 

Pouncival wasn't sure of what to say. His father was looking at him expectantly, before looking at Tumblebrutus with terror and alarm. "We were playing, and I just... I..." Tears started falling down his cheeks. "I didn't mean to... Is he going to be all right?" 

"I'm sure he'll be fine, dear," said Jenny kindly and turned to Tugger. "Would you..?" 

The curious cat nodded, and together with Demeter he got Tumblebrutus off the ground and on their way to the TSE 1. Asparagus followed them, his face a mask of fear to lose his youngest son. 

Pouncival followed. There was nothing else he could do. 

* * *

"I assume you heard what happened?" Pouncival asked Mistoffelees later that same day. 

Tumblebrutus had gotten a concussion, but with rest he would be fine. Pouncival's voice still sounded dead, though. His face was completely devoid of feelings. 

"I did," said Mistoffelees and nodded. 

They were sitting in the old secret hideout, the only place where Pouncival felt safe enough to talk about what had happened. It was strange though, that he found this place safe, when Macavity had been here not long ago. 

"I hurt my brother," he said. 

"You didn't mean to hit so hard." 

"But I did anyway." Pouncival paused. "Misto, what's the matter with me? I can't play with Tumble anymore. I'm afraid I'll hurt him." 

"You can still play with him, Pounce," said the magician calmly. "You just have to learn how to be careful. You're much stronger now. But you can learn how to control that strength." 

Pouncival looked at him. "Like you learned from the Twins how to control your powers? Can you teach me that?" 

"I'm still just a beginner myself..." 

"You made the potion that turned me into this." 

The room fell silent. Pouncival looked at Mistoffelees. 

"I can try and teach you, Pounce," said the magical cat finally. "If you promise me that you'll keep this a secret. You can never tell anyone about the experiment with the potion. Not even your dad. Not even Tumble." 

Pouncival nodded. "I know. I'll keep quiet, if you'll teach me." 

"Then we've got a deal." 


	5. The Fall of a King

A/N: Just a small note to say that this story was completed yesterday, and is therefore not a work in progress anymore. Hurrah! 

I think this is my favourite chapter of the lot. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: CATS still not mine. "Blue Bonnets Over the Border" was written by Sir Walter Scott, and is therefore obviously not mine either.

**FOUR  
The Fall of a King**

Mistoffelees set up a place for training in the hideout. He said that it was only temporary, until he had found another place to call his own. He had his eyes on something closer to the Jellicle junkyard, but he wouldn't tell Pouncival what it was just yet. It was going to be a surprise, he said. 

When Pouncival came to the hideout the day after Tumblebrutus had gotten injured, he found the hideout being filled with pillows, and the upper half of a human mannequin doll in a corner. The walls were covered with mattresses, and the boxes that had been used as table and cupboards stood piled up next to a wall, unused. 

On one of the boxes sat Mistoffelees. He was looking into the remains of his broken scrying mirror, with a troubled look on his pale face. When Pouncival entered, he looked up. 

"Ah, hello, Pounce," he said. "Think fast!" 

Before Pouncival could react, a ball of magical energy soared through the air. He grimaced as it hit him in the chest, sending a jolt of electricity through his body. Automatically he bend backwards, allowing for the ball to pass him over and hit the opposite wall, where it shattered into small glowing pieces of lightning. 

"Not bad," said Mistoffelees and nodded approvingly. "Your reflexes need some work, but at least you know what to do in a crisis. Come on. Let's see what you can do." 

He jumped down from the box and padded over to the mannequin. Up close, Pouncival could see that it was welded into the floor. 

"This is how this works," said Mistoffelees calmly. "I say the name of a body part, and you'll hit it. Plain and simple. You hit it however you'd like, kick or punch, it doesn't matter. Just cause it maximum injury. Can you do that?" 

"Shouldn't be a problem." 

"Good. Head!" 

Pouncival's paw shot out at the mannequin, hitting it on the chin. The head bent backwards for a moment, and then it flipped back. 

"Belly!" 

He whipped around, jumped, swung out his legs, and kicked the mannequin in the stomach. The entire dummy shook from the impact. 

They kept doing this for about half an hour, Mistoffelees shouting orders and Pouncival carrying them out. Then they went over to train reflexes, in which Mistoffelees threw out small, stinging lighting bolts that Pouncival had to dodge. After an hour of that, Pouncival collapsed on the floor. 

"Can we call it a day?" he pleaded. "I'm wiped." 

"Sissy," said Mistoffelees, but then he gave in. "All right, fine. For a first pass, it's quite good." 

"Is this what you had to do when you began to learn how to control your powers?" 

"Something like it. I just had to use magic instead of muscle to do it. It's basically the same principle." 

Mistoffelees shrugged and sat down on the floor next to Pouncival. He looked rather tired himself. Using too much magic in one day must exhaust him. 

"How is your brother feeling?" he asked after a moment of silence. 

"He's resting. Jenny and Jelly said that's the only thing that can make him well again. They say he'll be fine, but he should take it easy now. They gave me a long speech about not playing rough with him anymore. I went to speak with him this morning, before I came to you. He wanted to know where I'd learned how to kick like that." 

"Did you tell him?" 

"Of course I didn't tell him! I promised, didn't I?" Pouncival shot him a glare. "I said that I'd heard him sneak up on me, and I just happened to get a perfect hit, sorta speak. I suppose he believed me." 

"Good." 

Pouncival was quiet for a moment, and then he said: "I'll need a new name." 

"Three aren't enough for you?" asked Mistoffelees with a bemused smile. 

"You know what I mean. Not just any other name. An alter ego. Someone that I can be when I'm this new person, and then I can be Pouncival with my family and friends." 

"I understand. Well... I might be able to get something for you. I remember reading that you could alter your appearance using some sort of mark on your body... I could look it up. In the meantime, you think of a new name for yourself." 

"I'll do that." 

* * *

She was a beautiful dog, the Pollicle lady, and she had beautiful puppies. They had some golden retriever in them, and it reflected in their light fur. They were playing now not far away, and she kept an ever-watchful eye on them to make sure they didn't go too far. She was lying in an old barrel, which provided shelter from the dogcatchers that came from time to time, and gave shade from the sun on scorching summer days. It was the perfect place to raise her puppies. Of course King had seen to it. He was her mate, and the father of her puppies. Not only that, but he was the leader of the Pollicles, and she was his favourite. 

Now he was out scouting the neighbourhood for more of those horrible Pekes, and perhaps even see if he could get the Pugs and the Poms over to his side. No, to _their_ side. The Pekes were intruders, heathen dogs from faraway, and they had no place in London at all. It was strange, the way the Pollicles hadn't seen that before. 

Queen, for that was the name of the Pollicle lady, yawned lazily. It was a wonderful day, and she was quite in the mood for a little nap, when suddenly a sound was heard. It was a whine, shrill and pleading, and it made her jolt awake instantly. She sat up in the barrel, her beautiful dark eyes wandering to the only entrance to the yard, the northern alley. 

There, in-between his two trusted lieutenants, staggered King, and he was in pain. He had several bite-marks in his throat and side that left stains of blood on the asphalt as he walked, and his left hind leg seemed broken, as he couldn't walk on it. His eyes, his wonderful eyes that had made Queen fall in love with him, looked at her from a face that was no more than a mess of cuts and patches where fur had been torn out. 

"Into the barrel, my darlings!" Queen barked at her puppies as she left it herself. "Playtime's over, come on!" 

She heard their complaints as a buzzing in her ears, but they soon silenced as they saw their father's injuries. Queen ran up to him, wanting to relieve him of his pain with her love. 

"What happened?" she demanded to know of his lieutenants. 

Knight, the oldest of the two, answered. "Pekes." His voice was low with anger. "They came... There must have been at least a dozen of them." 

Now she saw that Knight and Dub were hurt as well, although none of them as badly as King. 

"They were after him," said Dub hoarsely. "They didn't even bother with us... Pilot tried to stop them, and four of them went after him... I don't think he made it." 

Queen's legs were suddenly so weak that she had to sit down. Her face showed no emotions, her eyes were blank. A wave of nausea came over her as she saw her mate's wounds, and she knew she couldn't heal them. She didn't know of anyone who could, either. She was completely lost, and her King was going to die. She looked over her shoulder, and her eyes fell upon her puppies. 

There were three of them. When she had carried them she had felt four in her womb, but one had been too weak at birth and hadn't lasted long. She still remembered the feeling of helplessness she'd had as she'd looked down at the fragile little body and known that she could do nothing to save it. She had the same feeling now. 

Queen sat with King until his breath slowed and he passed to the other side. She noticed with relief that his face was calm as he died, that he didn't suffer anymore. Good. That was at least something to be grateful for. When she was certain that he was gone, she looked up at Knight and Dub. 

"Gather the pack," she said, and her voice was like ice and lead. "We have work to do. We need everybody here. Tonight." 

Knight and Dub nodded and bowed their heads. "Yes, Queen," they chorused. "You are the leader now." 

'I am, aren't I?' thought Queen. 

* * *

Munkustrap looked at the two cats in front of him. They were one male and one female, both calico, and they looked very nervous about standing before him like this. 

"You said you wanted to see me?" asked Munkustrap politely. "How can I help you?" 

"Well," said the tom, and the grey tabby noticed a distinct cockney accent. "I'm Mungojerrie, an' this is my sister, Rumpleteazer. We were sorta hopin' we'd get to speak with you, 'cause, see, we're sorta... Well, we were sorta workin' for Macavity, before, an'..." He stopped talking, clearly quite embarrassed. 

Munkustrap raised an eyebrow. "You were working for Macavity?" he repeated. 

"Yeah, you know, stealin' stuff an' stuff," said Rumpleteazer helpfully. "Shiny things, mostly. He wants the Lady to have pretty things, see, an' she likes them a lot, so he says that we has to take 'em." 

"I see..." Munkustrap looked at them, urging them to continue. 

Mungojerrie spoke again. "So, well, one day we thought that we didn't much like to take everything he told us to take, 'cause there was this little human girl who got her heart pendant taken away from her, and she started cryin' an' sobbin', an' the Lady thought it was fun an' wouldn' give the girl back the pendant, an' we thought it was... well, it wasn't very nice, was it?" 

Rumpleteazer shook her head so hard that she almost lost her balance. "No, 'cause we knew that little girl, an' she was always very nice to us when we was kittens, an' she used to set out milk for us an' everythin', an' that pendant was a gift from her dead granny, an'..." 

Munkustrap sighed. "Please get to the point." 

"Right," said Mungojerrie and took a deep breath. "Sorry 'bout that. Here's the thing, sir, we don' wanna be a part of that anymore. Maybe it's fine to take things from rich people, 'cause they have so much, but takin' somethin' from a nice little girl who never done nothin', that can't be right. So we came here. 'Cause we figured that you could help us." 

"Can you?" asked Rumpleteazer hopefully. 

Munkustrap took some time to think it through. "I might," he said finally. "You would have to talk to my father, Old Deuteronomy. He is the real leader of the tribe, and he can tell you whether or not you'd be allowed to stay here. You'd have to become Jellicles of course..." He smiled a little, for the first time since the siblings had entered his domain. "For now there is no reason for you not to stay at the junkyard. You may consider yourselves guests here until my father comes back, which should be any day now. He's on a small outing with my mother now, you see." 

"Ohh, thank you, sir!" beamed Rumpleteazer. "We really appreciate this. You won't regret it for even a little bit!" 

"I hope not." Munkustrap nodded at them, indicating that they were free to go. 

Perhaps if he had heard the whispered conversation between the siblings as they left the Jellicle tire, he would have thought through his decision in letting them stay for a while longer. 

"Where didja get the idea of that little girl, Jerr?" hissed Rumpleteazer, her eyes darting back to Munkustrap. "We had discussed this before! You were supposed ta stick to the story we made up!" 

"I figured this one would make 'im feel sorry for us," her brother answered in a low voice. "Mac said that Jellicles were a sensitive bunch, didn' 'e?" 

Rumpleteazer paused. "I s'pose you're right. The faster we can become a part of the tribe, the better. I don' like being here one bit. We shouldn't be spies, should we, Jerr? We're thieves, nothin' else. Why did Mac have to pick us anyways?" 

"'Cause we're basic'lly the only cats in his court that the Jellicles don' know about," said Mungojerrie calmly. "And two siblings are very unsuspicious, right? We wouldn' hurt a fly, would we?" 

"'Course not. We... we're not supposed to hurt anybody, are we?" Rumpleteazer didn't like the idea of having to kill somebody. 

Mungojerrie shook his head. "Mac said we wouldn' hafta do that. We should just report everythin' that happens to him and lay low. Killing cats does not translate as lyin' low. So don' worry, sis. We'll be fine." He smiled and nuzzled his sister gently. "We'll be just fine." 

* * *

It was the same evening, and Queen looked over the pack of dogs that had gathered with pleased eyes. She nodded contentedly. 

"I am glad that so many of you have come to honour my King," she said, her voice ringing loud and clear over the yard. "I know that he would feel proud to see you all here tonight. The reason I gathered you is that we all know that King was taken away from us too soon. He was a strong Pollicle, he would have lasted years yet. He was brutally stolen away from all of us by the intruders, by the filth that has taken over our beloved London. I am talking about the Pekes." 

Several of the gathered dogs growled loudly, and a few ladies burst out crying at the thought of their leader's early demise. This was the reaction that Queen had hoped for. She spoke again. 

"The Pekes came here, and they stole everything from us! Our humans, our homes, our food! We have been driven from our warm, comfortable lives, out unto the cold street! Shall we continue to take this?" 

"No!" barked the dogs, and a scabby Pug added: "The Pekes stole my family! If it hadn't been for them, I'd still be living with my humans, and not eat from the garbage cans!" 

"A gang of Pekes attacked us on the way over here and stole our tribute to the great leader Queen!" shouted a very fat beagle. 

"They chased my mate of out town, and he hasn't come back to me!" 

"A shame to our fine home!" 

"A threat to our pups!" 

"My friends, I agree!" shouted Queen. "But you know we must be civil about this! We cannot chase them out one by one, for where one disappears five others take its place! We must show them, once and for all, that we are stronger, and that our ranks will not give them a moments peace until they leave for good!" 

"Are you talking about war, my lady?" asked a white poodle and tilted her head. 

Queen recognized her. She was the leader of the Pom tribe, the most posh of all the Pollicle tribes, and also the most comfortable. All Poms had humans taking care of them, and were often spoiled rotten. The Pollicles and the Pugs often envied the Poms for their life of luxury, but they would die rather than admitting it. 

"I am talking about justice, Pom!" snarled Queen. "Aren't the Pekes the reason for all our unhappiness? They killed your leader!" 

The poodle sniffed. "Yes, well, but isn't it true that Pollicles have set out orders for the assassination of hundreds of Pekes as well? They have reason to be angry, that's the way I see it." 

A few dogs hesitated for a moment, and their faces turned to Queen, hoping that their leader would have something to say. The Pollicles were after all the largest of the four major dog tribes of London. 

"If you are too cowardly to fight for what is right, Pom, then there is nobody forcing you to stay here," growled Queen and bared her teeth. "You may leave at any time, go back to your loving family to get your teeth brushed and your claws cut." 

"The Poms do not like fighting," drawled the poodle, shrugging off the insult. "And even less so when it is a pointless war. If I send my troops into battle, I want to know what they'll be dying for." 

"We are fighting for King! He had a vision, and we're going to live up to it!" 

"King was a fool, too shackled by his own prejudice and fears to see any other way out of this mess than fighting! You cannot be serious in trying to be a leader like him! He ordered the killing of that Peke family in Soho, and you can't say that was the right thing to do, Queen! They were _puppies_..." 

"In war, everything is fair," snapped Queen. "If you do not like it, then leave, before I rip you to shreds!" 

The poodle's lips parted, revealing two rows of small, sharp teeth. "Very well, Queen. You shall have your way. My tribe shall happily watch your fall." 

She said nothing else, but turned her back and left, with an annoying composure. A few of her tribesdogs followed her, but the rest of the pack stayed, including the leader of the Pugs. She was happy to see him stay. Pugs were not fonder of fighting than Poms, but they were strong and sturdy to have on your side. 

Queen looked at her faithful ones and smiled. "There shall be one last stand!" she barked. "One battle to end all battles! One shall win, and one shall lose, and we shall stand victorious! There will be ballads written about this battle, your puppies will hear the legend told through generations, and this day will live forever! The awful battle of the Pekes and the Pollicles!" 

And then a few hoarse voices started singing in the background, in broad Scottish dialects: 

_March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale  
Why the deil dinna ye march forward in order?  
March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale  
All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the Border..._

Queen closed her eyes and listened. She was shaking all over, and she didn't know if it was due to the Poms's betrayal, or King's death, or excitement over the impending battle. She needed to go back to her barrel and nurse her puppies, so she left the singing pack, ordered Knight and Dub to stand guard, and went inside. 

There they lay, the remains of her family, curled up close to each other for warmth in the cool evening. Their heads turned to her as she entered, and her elder yawned. She lay down beside them, allowing them to drink from her. 

"I'll protect you," she whispered. "Your father might have failed, but I'll stay with you and keep you safe. I promise." 

She gave them each an affectionate lick on the head, and then she yawned herself. Slowly Queen allowed herself to doze off, the marching song of the Pollicles lulling her to sleep. 

_England shall many a day  
Tell of the bloody fray  
When the Blue Bonnets came over the Border..._


	6. One Great Rescue

**Eponine Poe:** Ah yes, the Pkwy signs... I have heard about those. As you probably have figured out by now, they are a part of my vast plan to take over the world. I start with the fanfiction pages and the road signs and work my way up. :) And no, this story is not finished yet. I merely said that I have completed it, not that I have posted the last chapter. There will be eight chapters, and an epilogue. So we have a bit to go yet.  
**enkeli-kitsu:** .:squeak:. I am known through Cats websites? Sites, as in plural? More than one? Okay, that is scary...  
**Mystitat:** I'm glad you like it, dear. :) I hoped I could make the idea justice, and it appears that I have.

**FIVE  
One Great Rescue**

The mannequin's head was torn from its battered torso and bounced into the opposite wall. Its cold, plastic eyes looked up in the air in a somewhat bored manner. 

"Well, I don't know what you think," said Mistoffelees as he rolled the head back to attach it to the mannequin again, "but you seem ready." 

"Is that so?" said Pouncival and sent a pillow flying with a spinning kick. 

Mistoffelees grinned. "Yes. You are a warrior now, Pounce. How does it feel?" 

The young tomcat paused. "It feels okay." He started to practice a series of battle techniques, punch, kick, punch, kick, pawstand. "I feel like I'm training for something special. A mission." He unsheathed his claws with a swishing sound. 

"You are. The Pollicle war, if you remember? That was what the potion was made to prevent. What _you_ were made to prevent." 

Mistoffelees picked up a pillow and threw it into the air at Pouncival, almost casually. Pouncival's claws shot out, tearing the fabric and letting the mouldy stuffing out. The pillow fell to the floor with a sad little thud. 

"You make it sound like I'm just a tool," said Pouncival. "I know there is a reason that I'm like this now, but I can't get over the feeling of... of not really being a cat anymore. I'm something else." 

"You used to be a kitten who played with his brother and helped the tribe magician from time to time. You're not that person anymore, that's just how it is. I didn't _ask_ you to drink the potion, but you did, and here we are. Which reminds me..." 

Mistoffelees let go of the pillow he was holding and walked up to the only cupboard he had kept in the hideout. It contained a few of his most precious spell books, and now also a small wooden case, which looked like it might have been a jewellery box at some point. The magician picked up the case and carried it over to Pouncival. 

"I hope you have chosen a fourth name for yourself now," he said. "I did my part. This is your disguise." 

Pouncival looked at the case. "I'm, what, going to put it on my head or something? I don't think the Pollicles are _that_ gullible, Misto." 

"No, you twit, you're supposed to open the case and say your new name. If I did it right, which I hope to the Everlasting Cat I did, the magic I put in it is going to hear you and adapt itself to fit the name." 

Pouncival shrugged. "Okay then. I suppose I'm ready." 

"Good. Just let me find a place to hide first..." 

"What?" 

"Oh, nothing," twittered Mistoffelees cheerily, "it's just that I don't want to get caught in the storm. I made the magic in that case just for you, and I don't want to be close enough so that I might contaminate it. Do carry on when I say so." He gave Pouncival a brief, hopeful smile and dove behind the pile of unused boxes. "Okay, go now!" 

The young tom took a deep breath and looked at the little case. It had a small metal hatch that he had to pull aside with one claw to get open, and extremely carefully, he did just that. Then he closed his eyes, opened them again, and said, loudly and clearly for the magic to hear the name he had picked: 

"Rumpus Cat." 

And he opened the case. 

It was a strange feeling of warmth. That was what he remembered afterwards. He felt a light surround him, for just a moment he was bathing in it, and it was like lying in the sun on a hot day. He started purring. And then, as fast as it had started, the light and the warmth disappeared. Pouncival stood, breathing heavily, on the floor in the hideout, like before. 

Mistoffelees's head poked up from behind the boxes. "Rumpus Cat?" he repeated, frowning. "Well... It's not a name _I_ would have gone with, that's for certain." Then his eyes widened. "Whoa." 

"What?" Pouncival looked down at himself. "Oh. Cool." He poked at the black R on his chest and grinned. "I'm a superhero now, aren't I?" 

"Let's see, you've got the powers, the name, the _ridiculous_ outfit... Yeah, I'd say you fit the part." 

Mistoffelees nodded for him to take a look at himself in the shards of his magical mirror, so Pouncival did. He found himself staring at his own reflection for a while, in shocked surprise. 

A stern face looked back at him with red, gleaming eyes. The brown patch over his eye that he had been embarrassed about growing up was gone. His body was covered with sleek, black fur, except on his chest where he had the shield mark and the R. It looked good. He looked very... different. 

"Cool," he said again. 

"Well, I'm glad you approve," said Mistoffelees and nodded. "Try and turn back now. It should work if you'd just concentrate hard enough on being Pouncival." 

He closed his eyes and did. Immediately he felt himself changing, the black fur becoming longer and tufty, his bones rearranging with a dull cracking to make him slightly shorter, and his eyes changing colour from red to yellow. When he was finally ready, he still felt a tiny sting on his chest, as if someone held a warm light to his skin. Pouncival scratched the sting and grimaced at the sharp pain. 

"Yeah, you shouldn't touch that," said Mistoffelees. "It's your mark. It'll always be there now. Don't worry, it'll stop hurting in a couple of days. Let me see." 

He reached out a paw and brushed away a few tufts of fur from Pouncival's chest, revealing a scar roughly in the shape of an R. It looked like someone had taken a very sharp knife and carved it into Pouncival's skin, and it was slightly red around the edges, but it didn't look very serious. 

"So what do I do now?" asked Pouncival. 

"I guess this is when you find out if you can use your new powers for something," said Mistoffelees and shrugged. "Go out and be the hero. Save some damsels in distress. Fight some baddies. Hey, you could always go out and wreak vengeance on Macavity for being a meanie and killing you." He paused, serious for a moment, and looked at the barred-up windows. "The sun is coming down. They'll be some people out in the need of protection." 

"You really think I'm ready?" 

"You've got to start somewhere, Pounce." 

Pouncival looked at his paws and shuffled nervously. "Ehm... I'm not supposed to kill anybody, am I? Because let me tell you the truth, I don't think I can." 

"You do what you think is right. Just help people. That's what a hero does. I'm convinced you'll pull it off, so don't worry about it." Mistoffelees waved a paw dismissively. "Just go out. You'll probably catch on quick. You're good at catching on." 

Pouncival smiled. "Thanks, M." 

Mistoffelees frowned. "M.?" 

"It suits you." 

The superhero gave the magician a little wave. Then he started running. He ran out of the room and dove head first over the metal fence that surrounded the staircase. In the air he changed into the Rumpus Cat, and landed on his feet, perfectly unharmed. Mistoffelees followed him with his eyes he casually dusted himself off, and took up the casual run again. When the Rumpus Cat had disappeared out the warehouse, the magician chuckled a little to himself. 

"I'll be M., then," he smiled. "Good luck, Pounce." 

* * *

The Rumpus Cat soon noticed that being a superhero wasn't really what it was cranked up to be. First of all, it was dull. He had expected the bad guys to be waiting for him as soon as he exited the warehouse, but the streets were deserted. The setting sun cast an orange light over the cracked pavement, and a Pollicle barked somewhere, but otherwise London seemed completely calm as it awaited the evening. 

"Here goes," the hero murmured to himself. "Off to find employment, I guess." 

Every muscle in his body felt tense as he clung up the wall of a building, to get as high up as possible. As he reached the roof he found himself momentarily stunned by the strange beauty of the city that lay in front of him, his own for tonight. The Thames glittered in the light of the dying sun, and a few street lamps had been lit, their pale yellow light gleaming like stars in the shadowed parts of London. 

'How am I supposed to protect all this?' thought the Rumpus Cat, staring with a mixture of admiration and fear at the city. 'It's so huge, and I'm quite small.' 

He let his red gaze sweep over the buildings, in search of a place to start. His eyes fell upon a dark figure moving towards the streaming river. The figure was carrying a large sack over his shoulders, and was looking around to see if anybody saw him. When it seemed like no one did, it swung the sack of its head a few times, and let it go so that it soared through the air and landed in the water with a splash. Almost immediately the Rumpus Cat became aware of the weak, heartbreaking screams of kittens, and he was running before he even knew it. 

He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, his eyes firmly fixed on the sinking sack. It was quite far out in the water, and it was being thrown from left to right by the current. The Rumpus Cat wasn't sure how he was going to get it up, but the screams had quieted a bit so he knew he had to think fast. As he ran, he looked around in the hope of finding something to use... 

A crane stood not fifty meters away, its long metal bar reaching out across the water. The crane was of course unused, since the human handling it had gone home for the day a long time ago, and a steal wire was hanging from it, perfectly placed. The Rumpus Cat grinned. He looked at the sack, calculating how long it would take for it to float over to the crane, and figured out that he had about three minutes to set his plan in motion. 

Not time to lose, then. He didn't bother to run up the stairs to the crane operation booth, but simply jumped down from the rooftop and landed on the top step. He jumped up and broke the glass to the booth with one hard kick, surprised at how easy it was, and so managed to get into the booth. There he hesitated for a moment. He didn't understand a single one of the buttons and switches on the dashboard, but he did recognize the arrows on one lever. One went up and one went down. Right. Then at least he had a guess. The question remained, how was he going to start up the crane? He, of course, had no keys. 

"Think fast, think fast," he murmured, and suddenly caught sight of his own claws. 

He smiled. 

One claw was unsheathed, and carefully inserted into the keyhole. The Rumpus Cat had to experiment for one lifelong minute before he got the movement right, but then with a roar the machine started. 

"Yes!" 

As fast as he could with the claw still in the keyhole to make sure the crane didn't die, the Rumpus Cat reached the lever that controlled the crane, and gave it a hard kick so that it would start lowering the bar. It did, but it went very slowly. The bar would not reach the kittens in time to stop them before they'd already floated by, and the Rumpus Cat couldn't leave the booth if he wanted the machine to keep going. What was there to do? What could he do? 

With a groan he removed the claw from the keyhole, and the machine stopped immediately. He left the booth and ran, as fast as he could, along the heavy metal arm across the river until he came to the place where the sack would float pass. With a heart that was pounding furiously he climbed down until he hung from his hind legs, head down. 

He could see the sack, rushing closer and closer, sometimes bobbing underneath the surface. To his immense relief he could still hear the kittens, although their terrified screams were almost drowned by the sound of the water and the wind. 

"Come on," he muttered. "Come on, come on..." 

The sack was not far away. The Rumpus Cat made a tremendous effort, stretched his entire body to reach, and... 

The sack was just out of his reach. He felt the roughness of the fabric brush his paw, but he couldn't grab it, it was too far away. The sweat pearled down his face, and he grimaced. 

'It has to work...' 

And suddenly it did. The sack turned around, and its opening, which had been sealed tight by lots of tough string, was suddenly above water. It was just enough for the Rumpus Cat to take hold of, and with a triumphant shout of "Yes!" he managed to pull the sack closer to himself and hoist it up on top of the crane. He was exhausted, but the knowledge that he had succeeded gave him strength to carry the sack to the shore. The squeaks from the kittens were clearer here. The Rumpus Cat made one last effort and tore the sack apart, freeing the little creatures. 

He was surprised at first about how many of them there were. He counted to seven of them, although one or two seemed to be unconscious or worse from the cold. The kittens were of different age and colours, the smallest only a few weeks and the oldest probably around three months old. They were all soaking wet, and shivering. 

"It's okay now," panted the Rumpus Cat. "You'll be fine. I can take you to a safe place." 

One kitten opened its eyes. It was a little tom, no more than a few weeks old. 

"Mama?" he asked weakly. 

It nearly broke the hero's heart. The kitten reminded him a little of Tumblebrutus. 

"Not mama," he said softly. "I don't know where your mama is. But I'll take you to somewhere where you can get warm and have something to eat. Does that sound good to you?" 

The kitten sniffled something inaudible and curled up close to his... siblings? No, they couldn't all come from the same mother, that was impossible. But why had they been thrown in the river? Who could be so cruel to tiny little kittens? And how was he going to get them to the junkyard? They weren't strong enough to walk there themselves, and carrying them there one by one in his mouth would take too long. 

Finally the Rumpus Cat decided to drag them there on the torn sack. It was probably not the best way to transport them, but it was the only thing he could think of. 

* * *

Jennyanydots lay curled up on the passenger seat in the TSE 1, happily enjoying the warmth of the car. Next to her lay Jellylorum, seemingly also quite content. They had just put the four kittens that slept in the TSE 1, Etcetera, Tumblebrutus, Admetus and Victoria, to bed, and were enjoying some quiet time, when suddenly Jennyanydots raised a head. She had heard a scratching on the window, and if she listened for it, she could even hear a heartbreaking wail from outside. 

"Jelly?" she mumbled to her friend. "Do you hear that?" 

"Hm?" Jellylorum sat up, suddenly completely awake. "Yes, I hear it. I can go and see what is the matter, if you stay with the kittens." 

Jenny nodded, and Jelly crept out through the exit at the front of the car. Her green eyes scanned the junkyard for the source of the wailing, and immediately they fell on a pile of what appeared to be old rags. The strange thing was that she had known that those rags had not been there when she had went to bed. She snuck closer, and when she saw what was lying there, she gasped. 

Among the rags, carefully wrapped in old clothing to keep warm, lay seven young kittens, meowing pitifully and looking up at her with large, pleading eyes. There was a note attached to a ratty cardigan, which Jellylorum picked up and read. 

"'Be kind to us,'" she read out loud. "'The Magical Mr. Mistoffelees pulled us out of a hat, and now we're all alone.'" 

She looked at the kittens, and then at the note again. Then she picked up the smallest kitten by the neck, hurried to get him inside, and woke up Jennyanydots. 


	7. Life and Death

**SIX  
Life and Death**

"What I don't get is why you told them that _I_ pulled those poor kits out of a hat." Mistoffelees was speaking in quite a low voice, since three adult cats sat not far away, speaking about the newly arrivals. 

The entire tribe were sitting outside the TSE 1, waiting for any of the matrons to come out and tell them if the kittens would live. Most of the Jellicles were also shooting strange glances Mistoffelees's way, and the younger cats looked at him with unhidden admiration. 

Pouncival grinned. "It's just a joke, M. I couldn't exactly come up to them and say 'hi, I rescued these kittens from certain death by the cunning use of a crane and my freaky superfeline strength.' This way it'll be something of a mystery. They _know_ you didn't do it, so who could it be?" 

"I could have done it," said Mistoffelees sulkily. 

"With all due respect, you can't just make kittens appear out of thin air. I don't think _anybody_ could do that." 

Mistoffelees had to agree on that. "You could have just said that you found them in the water, and managed to get them out. You don't have to mention the whole strength and crane thing." 

Pouncival shrugged. "Too late now, anyway. This is kind of fun too." 

Jennyanydots came sauntering out of the car, and the Jellicles all looked at her expectantly. She was smiling, always a good sign. 

"They are all alive, and all of them feel just fine," she reported. "They are two queens and five toms. The elder queen said her name is Electra and that she is three months old. She remembers a lot of dark, and a lot of water, so from this Jelly and I have drawn the conclusion that they have all spent a considerable amount of time in the river." 

"The river?" asked Munkustrap and frowned. "How did they get out of that one?" 

"Misto magicked them out, didn't you Misto?" said Tumblebrutus merrily and grinned at the magician. 

"I didn't put them here," said Mistoffelees calmly. "I don't know where they came from." 

"Well, someone must have put them here," argued Tumblebrutus sensibly. "They couldn't just have floated out of the water by themselves." 

"Can you make this Electra say anything else?" Munkustrap asked Jennyanydots, ignoring Tumblebrutus. "Anything valuable at all?" 

"We can try," said the Gumbie cat and shrugged. "Although she and her little friends are in shock, so it might take a while before we can get anything else out of them. And there is another matter which is really rather urgent..." 

Munkustrap nodded. "Yes?" 

"Three of the kittens are in the need of a wet-nurse. If they don't get milk soon, they're going to starve. I suggest we send messengers to the other tribes around the neighbourhood, to see if they have a queen who's had kittens herself recently and has room for one more." 

The Jellicle protector turned around to Skimbleshanks and Alonzo. "Would you two be so kind and spread the word of the kittens to the nearby tribes? Perhaps someone recognizes them. See if you can find any wet-nurses as well. In the meantime, they are our responsibility." 

Jennyanydots beamed at him. 

* * *

After a few days of asking around, the Jellicles found out that not only could the three nursing kittens find homes in the Jorat tribe, but all five of the males could also live there. The Jorats had been fortunate in that they just had two queens coming down with kittens, but the offspring were only female, and they would need mates when the time came. The prospect of getting fresh blood into the tribe was a chance too great for them to say no to, so within three days the five toms were carried off to live with the Jorats. 

The queens however, seemed quite happy to stay with the Jellicles. They settled in beautifully and were soon the darlings of all the older queens. The newcomers were Electra, already playing tag and wrestling with the young toms, and little Jemima, who was small and shy. She mostly kept to Jennyanydots and Jellylorum until Etcetera decided she should play with the rest of the kittens. Etcetera usually got her way when it came to things like that. 

Life went on at the Jellicle junkyard, in mostly the same way it always had. Mostly. The Rumpus Cat dutifully went out patrolling the alleys every night to see if there was anybody he could help, but there was rarely anything worse than a particularly large rat threatening a human. The Rumpus Cat couldn't understand why the human was so afraid, but he ate the rat nonetheless and was thankful for the snack. 

No matter what he did though, the rumour of it soon reached the Jellicles. Rumpus Cat soon became a name that everybody knew, and it often showed up in conversations. Cats wanted to know who he was, how come he was so strong, and where did he come from? 

The common theory was that he was a member of the Javanese tribe. The Javaneses were known to be mysterious and strange, and they rarely interacted with the other three cat tribes of London. However, Cassandra was originally Javanese, and she denied knowing anything about the Rumpus Cat. Another theory was that he was a stray, not belonging to any tribe at all, and that he had been taken prisoner by human cat-stealers who had performed experiments with him and caused him to have superfeline strength... Pouncival encouraged ideas like that. He found them extremely amusing. 

So came one fateful night. It began like every other, with Pouncival changing into the Rumpus Cat and going out to roam the streets. It was quite a calm night, with a wonderful full Jellicle moon hanging over the rooftops, its beams gently caressing the streets. The humans kept inside, for they knew perfectly well that the night did not belong to them. This was a cat night, a Jellicle night, and the Rumpus Cat felt a slight tinge of guilt as he snuck out instead of staying at home with his family. 

He strolled casually down Campden Hill Road, savouring the moonlight. It looked like it was going to be another quiet night, when suddenly he heard someone crying softly. The hero stopped, every muscle in his body tense. He listened. The crying was not very far away, and the Rumpus Cat thanked his superior hearing, or he might not have heard it. 

Almost automatically emerging into the shadows and becoming one with the night, he left Campden Hill Road and walked into one of the nearby alleyways. The crying intensified, soft complaining sobs of absolute despair. It was a queen crying. She walked slowly down the alley, tears running down her cheeks. Occasionally she stopped and wiped her face free, and then she started walking again. She passed the Rumpus Cat where he stood, and he saw her face. 

'Patti?' he thought. 

She wasn't supposed to be out tonight. It was a full moon. Jellicles kept to their territory during full moons, to rest and meditate, and father would be angry with Pattipaws once she got home. But she was crying, and a small, nervous little-brother part of the Rumpus Cat wanted to go up to her and comfort her. She wouldn't like it if he did that, though, he knew. Pattipaws hated it when people saw her cry. 

The Rumpus Cat's nose caught a scent of Pollicle, and all his senses were immediately on full alert. It took him under a second to localize the dog, who was rummaging through a garbage can a bit ahead. The Rumpus Cat felt how his stomach turned into a cold little knot. 

His sister was heading right for the Pollicle. 

* * *

Pattipaws's day had started quite well. She had gone for a walk and met a very handsome tom from the Javanese tribe, who clearly had made eyes at her. He had suggested they'd meet up that same evening and walk around together, perhaps have something to eat, and she had agreed that this was a very good idea. She had prepared for it all day, cleaning her fur and made sure that her whiskers lay perfectly. When the evening finally came she had snuck out of the junkyard and arrived ten fashionable minutes late to the spot where she was supposed to meet the tom. 

He hadn't been there. Pattipaws wasn't sure if it was due to her being late, or if he had never showed up at all. She felt stupid for thinking that he'd wait for her, and when Pattipaws felt stupid she often got angry. That was why she was walking home, crying hot tears of resentment towards him, the Javanese, and toms in general. 

The Pollicle stopped its fierce quest for food as it felt the whiff of the approaching cat. It poked its spotted head out of the garbage can and stared at her, as if it couldn't believe its luck. Pattipaws saw it now. It was a large Dalmatian, its black-and-white coat dirty and dull. It was completely emaciated and seemed to react solely on a sense of self-preservation. With a summoning of its last strength, it lunged at her. Pattipaws screamed. 

* * *

The Rumpus Cat had never run so fast. He didn't even remember running, just that he had been around 150 feet away from Pattipaws and the Pollicle at one moment and in between them the next. He felt the fur on his head stand up, and he hissed at the Pollicle as he pushed it away. 

"Sod off!" 

It growled and lunged again. The smell that came from its open mouth almost knocked the hero to the ground, and it threw him off balance for just a second. It was all the Pollicle needed. It held the Rumpus Cat down for a moment, leaping over him and going for Pattipaws again. 

She fought back, he had to give her that. Her teeth were bared and her claws unsheathed, and she bit and scratched for all she was worth. At first the Pollicle looked as if it was going to back down, but then it was reminded of its hunger, and tried again. It pinned Pattipaws to the ground and suddenly its teeth were very close to her neck... 

The Rumpus Cat snarled and attacked, throwing the Pollicle off balance. Cat and dog rolled like a giant wheel of claws, fur and teeth. Fortunately for the Jellicle, the Pollicle was so exhausted from hunger that it couldn't put up a fight. 

Fortunately for the Pollicle, though, was that it was not just a stray. It was a part of a small pack, an extension of the Pug tribe that had been banished from their original home and set out into the world on their own. Packs like that rarely survived without their tribe, not just because they had difficulties finding food, but also because they were outlaws among the dog community. Anyone was allowed to kill them. 

However, this pack did not intend to die out. They were weakened and had lost four members already, but they were still six of them left, and every single one of them had heard the noise of the fight in the alley and come to look. At first they stared at the Rumpus Cat, not believing that a cat could possibly have any chance in battle against a dog, no matter how weak the dog was. Then, when the Rumpus Cat had delivered a particularly nasty cut that made the Dalmatian whine and back away, they understood that it was possible. 

All at once, they went for the Rumpus Cat and Pattipaws. 

"Patti! Run!" 

The young queen gasped and hesitated. She didn't know this strange tom who'd come to her aid, but there was something about him that... that was familiar. She didn't want to leave him behind. Hungry dogs would do anything to get food. She took a few doubting steps to leave, but at that moment a Pollicle managed to get in a hit, and the hero staggered backwards. 

"No!" 

Pattipaws jumped forward, furiously scratching the face, the body, the legs, the everything of the attacker. He was surprised at first, but quickly brushed her aside. She yelped as she fell to the ground, and screamed when the other Pollicles turned towards her. With a great effort the Rumpus Cat fought his way through the Pollicles to get to her, to help her, before it was too late. He fought, desperately, in the despairing hope of saving his sister before she was lost. 

As long as she was screaming, things were all right. At least then he knew she was still alive. When she stopped screaming, that was the time he would worry. He pushed and shoved and tore and snarled, and the Pollicles began to tire. With a last, final blow the Rumpus Cat managed to get them away from Pattipaws. 

She had stopped screaming. 

Everlasting Cat, she had stopped screaming. 

She lay flat on her back, her eyes wide and frightened. She didn't move. She didn't do anything. She was just lying there. Rumpus Cat felt like he was going to faint, but he bent over her to see how she was. 

"Patti?" 

She was bleeding. At least one dog had gotten close enough to bite her in the shoulder, and the wound gaped large and scarlet red. It was pumping out blood at an alarming speed, staining the pavement. She was still breathing, quick, shallow breaths that couldn't possibly sustain her for long. Her eyes moved, frantically searching for something to give comfort, when there was no comfort to get. They fell on the Rumpus Cat, who had never felt more helpless in his life. 

"Patti," he murmured, hoping that he with his voice could keep her alive for just one more moment. 

Just a day more. Just an hour more. Just a minute more. If he could keep her alive for one more minute, she would make it completely. She would be well. She would get up from the dirty ground and laugh and be his big sister again, if he could just... 

Pattipaws's eyes mirrored all the pain and terror in the world, and he couldn't make it go away. She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice was failing her. The look on her face asked a question. 

Pouncival answered it. He closed his eyes, allowing the darkness of his fur fade out into white and brown. When he opened his eyes again, they were yellow instead of a fierce red. 

"Hi," he said softly. 

Pattipaws exhaled deeply. "Oh..." she managed to get out. 

She smiled. It was a weak smile, but it was the only thing she could give him to thank him for trying. Her eyes were slowly losing their spark. She was disappearing. But she was smiling. 

"Goodnight," she mouthed at him. 

The blood was gushing slower from her wound now, and Pouncival felt sick as he saw how much of it was on the ground. His paws were covered in it, and he was fighting the urge to lick it off. Pattipaws's head had lulled to the side, and her eyes were closed. A few gurgling breaths went through her body... and she was gone. 

Pouncival was not aware of anything but the fact. Pattipaws was dead. She. Was. Dead. His entire being was fulfilled with this fact, until his mind was incapable of forming anything else but those three words. His grief completely took him over. With it came anger, a roaring wave of heat and blood that coloured his eyes red and his fur black again. He felt the R mark burn on his chest. 

The Rumpus Cat got to his feet, slowly. He was breathing calmly. He was completely composed. His sister was lying dead on the ground, her blood making a dark red pool underneath her, and the one who had killed her was now running down the street with his teeth coloured by the blood. The Rumpus Cat could smell it. His mind was completely focused on this little bit of information. 

He started to run. He was dimly aware that the blood on his paws made scarlet prints of the stones, but he paid no attention to it. It was unimportant. What was important was that the murderer was still at large, and that he must die. The Rumpus Cat would see to that. 

He saw the murderer clearly. It was limping down the street, already injured. Good. That was good. I must have done it myself, thought the Rumpus Cat rationally. During battle. That was how it happened. 

The murderer was a gangly old thing, skinny and weakened, or it would never have considered eating a cat. It had picked up the scent of the creature following it, and it was trying to pick up the pace, although there was little it could do with a failing leg. 

The Rumpus Cat attacked. He was still calm. Every blow landed perfectly, he fought with a determination of inflicting as much damage and pain as possible. He heard the murderer whine something, maybe a plead for mercy, but the Rumpus Cat did not have any to spare. His claws tore up deep cuts in the murderer's face, he was the angel of death, and he kept hitting and clawing long after the murderer had stopped trying to fight back. 

Tears had started making their way down his cheeks without him knowing how they got there. He wiped them off irritably. They were in the way. They were pointless too, because everything would be fine as long as the murderer was dead. Pattipaws would come back then, alive and healthy, and he would take her back to the junkyard, and things would be fine when the murderer was gone. So there was no point in crying, because Pattipaws was not _really_ dead, and... 

But she had been lying awfully still. 

She was not dead. She was the big sister, and she could not be dead. He was a hero, and he was supposed to protect her, and that was what he was doing right now. He was protecting her, and everybody else. He had not failed. He could not fail. He had all this strength, and it was supposed to make things better. 

But she had not been breathing. 

She was tired. 

But the wound... 

It will _heal_. I'll get Jenny and Jelly, and they'll heal it. 

But she is dead. 

She's not... 

She is dead. 

Pouncival stopped. He just stopped. He stood there, beside the mutilated body of the murderer, of the dog, staring at a point far away from the present. His mind felt blissfully empty. He stood blinking for a moment, trying not to think, because things were easier when you didn't think about them. There was one thought that he could not push away though. It was picking at his subconscious, trying to get out. An image made itself known. A young Jellicle queen, her dark fur stained and knotted together, and a gaping wound that still oozed blood... 

It hit him again and again, like a battering ram. 

'I failed.' 

Pouncival ran away from the body of the Pollicle. He didn't get very far, for his legs buckled and wouldn't obey, so he staggered to the ground, and vomited until he was completely empty. 


	8. The Memorial

**SEVEN  
The Memorial**

Pouncival woke up, and it was dark around him. The darkness smelt of moist soil, and it was a surprisingly pleasant scent. It was quite cold, but he didn't mind. It felt nice. But where was he? 

"Hello, Pounce." It was Mistoffelees's voice. It sounded serious, not a very common thing. "How are you feeling?" He sighed. "Sorry. I shouldn't ask that. It was stupid of me." 

Pouncival sat up. He felt dizzy for a moment, but it disappeared soon. He saw Mistoffelees sit next to him. The magician was pale and trembling, and wouldn't face him. Pouncival looked around. He was lying in what appeared to be a lair underneath the ground. It had some pieces of furniture, like a desk and some bookcases, but otherwise it seemed empty, as if someone had just moved in. 

"What is this place?" asked Pouncival, rubbing his head. 

"It's my new hideout. We're underneath the junkyard. I... brought you here because if they found you near the... the body..." He hesitated. "I'm sorry, Pounce." 

Pouncival groaned. "Patti... I failed her. I was supposed to have rescued her, and I didn't..." His voice trailed away. There was a hard knot in his stomach that wouldn't disappear. He swallowed and stood up. "I'm going out." 

Mistoffelees frowned. "You can't go out now. The rest of the tribe have just located the... the bodies. They followed your... pawprints, and they saw the Pollicle..." 

"I killed it." 

"Yes. You did." 

"Good." Pouncival looked around for an exit. "How do I get back to the surface?" 

"Where are you going?" 

"I'm finishing it." Pouncival's eyes flashed orange. "That dog took her away, as if she wasn't important. As if she didn't matter. And they just keep doing that. They just keep killing, and they'll wipe us out completely unless I decide to be strong and defend my tribe. I owe it to Patti." 

Mistoffelees took a deep breath. "Jellicles have no place in Pollicle war, Pounce." 

"I don't _care_ about that! I was supposed to stop them! That was my purpose, wasn't it? Why I was created? To stop them. I was weak. I failed, and now my sister is dead. How am I supposed to face my dad now, knowing that I could have saved her if I'd just been a little stronger, a little faster, a little more heroic? How can I face my brother?" 

Mistoffelees looked at the hero, and it was not a kitten that looked back. Pouncival's face was a mask of resolve, but his eyes gleamed with unshed tears. He was barely holding it in. 

"Patti was important," said the magician. "She will be missed, and her death shall not be in vain. But you can't just go out after them. It wouldn't help matters." 

"How do you know? It has to be finished. There has to be justice. I am that justice. I was made to be... be the hero, I... I can't just let them..." His voice broke, and suddenly he looked very young and very afraid. He cleared his throat. "I killed her murderer. It was simple. I can do it again, and bring retribution to the Jellicles. We have all lost someone." 

Mistoffelees bowed his head. "Don't let your anger and your grief get the better of you, Pounce. The potion did not make you immortal. You can still die. And then your father and your brother would be all alone. Don't do that to them. Don't be another victim." 

"How can you say that when she's dead? How can you just pretend that, that things will be _okay_ again? She's gone. I saw her die. Her blood was... it was everywhere, and..." 

Pouncival started crying. At first there were no tears, just dry sobs that racked his entire body and threatened to rip his guts out. He was aware that he was falling, but he didn't care. It felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach, and he was fighting not to let the pain show, when his body shook from it. He wanted to throw up, but there was nothing left inside. He wanted to scream and curse, but he had no air to form words with. All that came out was a low, complaining wail, and with that sound came the tears. 

His claws scratched in the hard-stamped dirt floor of the lair as the sounds of the battle came back to him. He had been hoping that Pattipaws would keep screaming, for as long as she made sounds she was still alive. That heart-stopping moment when she had stopped replayed again and again in his head until his ears rung with the sudden, echoing silence. He remembered his claws ripping and tearing in dog flesh, and that he had felt good doing it. He was protecting someone. He was being useful. He was proving himself. 

But she had still died, and he had still failed. Failed Patti, failed dad, failed Tumble. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I tried, but they were too many, and I failed, and I'm so so sorry, and if you'd just come back I promise I'd do better next time, if you'd just come back Patti I'd be so good and strong and make everything better, I'm so sorry..." 

He felt a soft paw on his shoulder, and he looked up. Mistoffelees looked down on him, and his eyes were warm and gentle and soothing. 

"Sleep, brave little hero," he murmured, and Pouncival felt how a wonderful exhaustion came over him. "Sleep so that you can be strong for your family. They will need you." 

So Pouncival closed his eyes and gave in to his fatigue. He saw Mistoffelees's kind face in front of him as he lost consciousness, and allowed himself to sleep. 

* * *

Pouncival sat in between Asparagus and Tumblebrutus at Pattipaws's memorial. It was his duty now, as the oldest sibling. He should be what kept the family together, for it was falling apart. Asparagus sat staring at a point far away, perhaps trying to see his daughter looking back for just one moment. He had barely spoken since he'd heard the news. Pouncival wanted to comfort, but he felt just as lost and sad himself. 

Tumblebrutus was serious and silent. It was strange to see him like that, for he had always been so vibrant, so full of energy. Now he looked drained. His grief emptied him of everything that had made him Tumblebrutus. 

Next to Asparagus sat Gus, the old theatre cat and Pouncival's grandfather. He had come the long way to the Jellicle junkyard to say goodbye to Pattipaws, who he had always adored because she had reminded him of his most beloved daughter-in-law Noilly. The old cat sat surprisingly straight next to his son, looking at Munkustrap, who was leading the ceremony. Old Deuteronomy was still not back from his journey with Grizabella. 

"We stand here today to say goodbye to a young queen who was taken away too soon," said the grey tabby and bowed his head in respect. "She was a good daughter... a loving sister... a dear friend." 

Victoria, who had been Pattipaws's closest friend, sniffled loudly and was comforted by Jellylorum. The marmalade queen dried a tear from her eye herself. Once upon a time, not too long ago at all, Pattipaws had been a kitten living in the TSE 1. She had been just like one of Jellylorum's own. 

"Her soul has gone to the Heaviside," continued Munkustrap. "She is a part of the Everlasting Cat. Though she will be missed and remembered forever, we shall feel grateful for having her, if only for such a short time." 

Pouncival didn't hear the rest. His mind was completely blank. There was an unpleasant pain in his stomach that wouldn't go away, a feeling that he wanted to run and never stop. He wanted to do something. He wanted to fix this. The vacant look on Asparagus's face and Tumblebrutus's silence were too much to bear. 

The young tom stood up, and quietly he left the junkyard. He couldn't take this feeling any longer. He knew that he was not guilty of Pattipaws's death. That had been the Pollicle's fault entirely. But he still felt responsible, and he wanted to make it better. 

"Pounce?" said Mistoffelees's tentative voice from behind. 

Pouncival turned around and smiled weakly. "Hi M." 

"Hey. Are you okay?" 

"No. I think it will be a long time before any of us are okay." Pouncival sighed. "My family has been through tough times before, though. We bounce back. It just... feels weird. It feels like she's just on holiday or something. Visiting a friend. Like she'll come back any day and wonder why we're all so sad." He paused for a moment. "But I suppose she won't." 

"I'm sorry." 

"Yeah... Everyone's sorry." Pouncival sighed and looked at the rest of the Jellicles. They were sitting there in front of the TSE 1, listening to Munkustrap and occasionally wiping a tear away. "Everyone's sorry. Everyone understands. They've also lost someone. I remember when Skimble's brother was killed. Dad thinks I was too small to remember, but I do. It was just like this then. Everyone cried. But no one did anything about it, because the culprits were dogs, and dogs are much stronger than cats..." 

"You can do something." 

"But I'm not strong enough. I'm not ready. I thought I was, but when it came to it, I lost control. I killed. I wasn't supposed to. I wanted to. It felt good. I felt justified. But I'm not supposed to kill things, that was not why the potion was created. It does not give me the right." He looked at the magician. "I need to be more prepared. I need to know my purpose." 

Mistoffelees nodded thoughtfully. "I wish I could show you, Pounce, I really do. But that lies outside my territory. I'm not much of a psychic. You'll need the Twins for that, or other Javaneses. They know what they're doing, even though they rarely give you answers you understand." 

"Where are the Twins now?" 

"They have a basement flat near the park. Do you want me to take you there?" 

"Yes." 

"You might not get proper answers, you know." 

"I know. But it's better than nothing." 

* * *

The pale sun was sending a few rays into the small basement flat, casting shadows into the far corners. The place had an underlying smell of dampness, but it was disguised with various scented candles and spices. It was chilly, and the cold worked wonders on Pouncival's befuddled mind. He suddenly felt that he was thinking more clearly now than back at the junkyard. 

Mistoffelees trampled nervously on the ground and tried to squint into the darkness. Usually he would be able to see through it just as easily as he saw things in daylight, but something had been done to this darkness, and he couldn't pierce through it. 

"Hello?" he called out hesitatingly. 

"Hello Quaxo," said a kind voice. "You have not been visiting for a while." 

"Quaxo?" repeated Pouncival and looked at Mistoffelees. 

The magician coloured ever so slightly. "The name my mother gave me," he murmured. 

"I didn't think you knew who your mother was." 

"I don't. But they do." He nodded towards the shadows and said out loud: "Greetings, Twins." 

Pouncival became aware of two pairs of yellow-green eyes that watched him intently. The darkness re-shaped and created faces around the eyes, and suddenly one tom and one queen stood in front of Pouncival and Mistoffelees. They were Coricopat and Tantomile. They were the Twins. 

"Hello Pouncival," said Tantomile and gave him a friendly nod. "It is nice to have you here." 

"We have been awaiting your arrival," said Coricopat. 

Pouncival bowed, not sure of what was expected of him. "Greetings to you, Mystical Twins," he said. "I suppose you know why I am here as well?" 

"Yes," smiled Tantomile. "We know of your fourth name, Rumpus Cat. We saw how you fought to save your sister, when she was not meant to have been saved. We have seen how you have helped London, although you are still very young. We know about the potion as well." 

The Twins turned as one to look at Mistoffelees, who suddenly seemed even more nervous. 

"Making that potion was extremely dangerous," said Coricopat sternly. "We thought that we had taught you better than that, Quaxo. Had not Pouncival drunken it, who knows what would have happened?" 

"Macavity," mumbled Mistoffelees. 

"No, you would have drunken it," corrected him Tantomile. "And it would have destroyed you. You already possess so much power, little Quaxo. You do not need any more." 

"I was careful..." 

"You were not. You did not think it through. You were careless. But that is in the past now." She smiled kindly. "As it is, things worked out quite satisfactorily." 

"You wish to learn more," said Coricopat, looking at Pouncival. "You are not fully learned yet. There is only so much that Quaxo can teach you. You need training. You need us." 

"Yes," nodded Pouncival. "I want to learn how I can be a real hero. I've got the strength. I just don't know..." 

"How to use it," finished Tantomile. "Yes. Well, we can help you. There is more to the Rumpus Cat than magic tricks. We can teach you how to disappear completely, how to make sure that your scent goes by undetected. But we have to do it fast. We are running out of time." 

"The Pollicles are going to war," said Coricopat and nodded. "It shall be a grand battle. We have seen this. We know it won't be stopped. Not by anyone." 

"I will stop it," said Pouncival. 

"The war has gone on for a long time. They have been preparing for months. Any deaths that have occurred were not intended. Just mistakes. The leader of the Pollicles, Queen, is too stricken with grief for her killed mate, so she does not see things clearly. It is clouding her judgement. She needs someone who can show her the horrors of war." 

"I do not want to kill," said Pouncival calmly. "I have done that once. I will not allow myself to do it again, and cause more damage than I already have." 

"We will teach you how to cause damage, but you will have to learn how to decide when you shall use it yourself. That is what will separate you from cats like Macavity. In the end, you shall be more powerful than he is." 

The Twins smiled identical smiles. Pouncival nodded. 

"Thank you." 

"You shall come here now," said Coricopat. "Every day, until we tell you that you are ready, you shall come here to practice. You will be working hard, much harder than before. Quaxo may be a skilled magician, but he knows little of battle. You shall not speak of your visits here. Not to your family. Not to your friends. We have little time. Soon it will break out." 

The Twins smiled again. 

"But you will be ready when it does," they chorused. 


	9. Pouncival the Great

**Eponine Poe:** Because the Awful Battle of the Pekes and the Pollicles on the DVD/video is not the actual event itself, but a reenactment made by the Jellicles to entertain Old Deuteronomy. That's why it's Admetus who prances around in the Rumpus suit, not Pouncival. :) By the way, thank you very much for the RENT postcard you sent me. You are such a sweetheart. .:hugs:.

**EIGHT  
Pouncival the Great**

The following week Pouncival basically lived in the basement flat. He told his family that he was with Mistoffelees, helping him with experiments. Asparagus, who was still in shock after Pattipaws's death, didn't mind so much. Tumblebrutus though, looked sad every time Pouncival left the junkyard. 

"Why don't you play with me anymore, Pounce?" he asked timidly as his brother was on his way to the third day of practice. 

Pouncival looked at him. "I... I don't have the time," he answered after a moment's hesitation. 

"You never have the time nowadays. You're always hanging around with Misto. Is he your new best friend?" 

"You'll always be my best friend, Tumble. I promise I'll play with you later, but I have other things to do." 

He had to ignore Tumblebrutus's pleading eyes and tell him to go and play with Admetus instead. Other things to do... Yes. He had to go and train to become a real superhero, instead of some twerp in a silly disguise. He had to go and duck Coricopat's complicated spells that were hurled at him at any moment, and he had to do it with his eyes covered as well. The Twins told him that a hero might not always be able to se, but he should never be blind to his surroundings. 

Every day he spent training. Every night he went out patrolling the streets, to make sure he didn't miss things. Afterwards he would thank the Everlasting Cat for granting him durability together with his strength, or he would have collapsed after the first 48 hours. The days floated together into a constant battle. He was hardly ever out of costume, but spent the entire time as the Rumpus Cat. He didn't sleep. There was never time to eat. And still, against all thoughts and reason, he survived. 

Perhaps it was the image of Pattipaws's smile as she had seen his real face just before she died. Perhaps it was the look of absolute despair on his father's on her memorial. Whatever it was, something gave him the strength to carry on, to do everything the Twins told him no matter how impossible it should have been. 

"You are good," said Coricopat one day when the two of them were sparring in the flat. "Very good. With time, you can be the best fighter in London." 

Pouncival bent backwards and stood on his front paws, allowing the other tom's kick to hit the air between his legs, before drawing them together and catch Coricopat's leg in a firm grip. He let himself fall to the left, pulling his adversary's lower body with him, and landed perfectly on his own four paws. 

"Thanks," he said, falling back into fighting position. "Do you think I can win?" 

Coricopat gracefully got to his feet again. "What _I think_ is not important. It is what _you know_ that is. Are you stronger than a Pollicle?" 

Pouncival ducked a paw that latched out at him with a speed like a whip. "Yes." 

"Do you have the skill it takes to defeat them?" 

"Yes." 

Coricopat stood up, his back straight. "Will you use it?" 

Pouncival relaxed, every inch of the fighter inside him suddenly gone. "No." 

"And why not? A Pug killed your sister. You have every right to extract vengeance upon them. Everyone would understand. Is it not what you wish? To bring justice to the guilty, and know when you close your eyes at night that you may have saved a fellow Jellicle, a friend or a family member, in killing that dog?" 

Pouncival shook his head. "I mean... I did at first. I did kill the dog that murdered her. But it didn't bring me satisfaction. I wanted to go out and kill more of them, because I thought that it might... bring her back or something. But it wouldn't have. She would still be dead, and I might be too. I wasn't ready then. They are too many. I can't do that to my family. They have already lost too many." 

Coricopat nodded and smiled. "A good answer. You may be young in years, but you are old in mind. You will make a good hero." 

"I shall teach the Pollicles a lesson, that is all," said Pouncival and crouched into position once more. "I won't kill again, but I'll make sure they think twice before attacking a cat." He smiled. "I'll be the tip of the scale." 

He delivered a punch that would have floored Coricopat, had not the mystical cat avoided it at the very last minute, and, almost as an afterthought, swept out with his hind legs and tripped the young hero. He chuckled as he bent over Pouncival. 

"Perhaps you should rest," he said. "My sister and I have felt the end come soon. Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps the day after. You should be at the peek of your strength, just to make sure." 

Pouncival nodded. He was indeed tired. Coricopat helped him up and assisted him to his sleeping quarters: a pile of old rags in a corner of the basement. Next to the pile was a plate, which was half-filled with cat food. 

"A gift from our mistress," said Tantomile, who came out of the darkness and stood beside her brother, both moving like shadows. "She knows who you are and what you will do." 

"Your mistress?" repeated Pouncival. "Is it not you who own her?" 

Tantomile and Coricopat both shook their heads, and the former smiled like she would to an ignorant kitten. 

"She is the one who feeds us, who puts a roof over our heads, who makes sure that we are safe," she said calmly. "She is our mistress. But she has it the other way around, for she is human, and humans are fallible. She calls us her familiars." 

"Eat and rest, Pouncival," said Coricopat and gave him a nod. "Tomorrow will be a long day for you." 

They left him. Pouncival sniffed at the cat-food in the bowl. It was not unpleasant, so he ate it. He was hungry. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. After he had finished everything, he yawned and lay down on the pile of rags. He fell asleep, but slept uneasily and dreamed of a Pollicle with Pattipaws's face, who was sometimes screaming, sometimes barking out her fear. He knew why she was afraid. Tiny little copies of the Rumpus Cat were closing in on her, all of them hissing and glaring. The Pattipaws Pollicle whimpered with fear and staggered backwards, but she couldn't escaped the heroes, and they were too many, and they would get her... In his dream, Pouncival fought to get to her, but a part of him knew that she was already lost. She was barking louder and louder, and soon the sound of it echoed through his head, making him spin wildly out of control until he stretched out a paw... 

And woke up. 

At first he thought he was still dreaming, because the barking was still very clear. Then, as his mind cleared, he became aware that it was morning, and that he was lying in the Twins' basement flat. There were dogs outside, now he could also smell them instead of just hearing them. 

"Good morning," said Mistoffelees's cheerful voice from somewhere behind him. "This is your wake-up call. Wretched, isn't it?" He sighed and looked out the small aperture. "Extremely rude, I must say, to wake someone up like that." 

"Is this the day?" asked Pouncival as he stretched and started his morning wash. 

Mistoffelees nodded. "It seems like it. The Peke chieftain and the Pollicle queen met this morning and officially declared that it is war. Not really a surprise to anyone, but that's dogs for you. Anyway, they have been barking for a while now. The humans are going crazy. I heard someone has even called the Fire Brigade." 

Pouncival pricked up his ears. In a distance, behind the barking, he could hear sirens. He nodded thoughtfully. 

"They're on their way," he said. "Well, shall we get this over and done with, then?" 

"By all means, be my guest. I have no intention of getting my paws dirty." Mistoffelees grinned. "These are the perks of being the sidekick." 

"That you don't have to fight?" 

"Precisely." 

The hero accepted this. Not taking his eyes off of the small hole, he changed into the Rumpus Cat. He felt how his body was altered and relaxed visibly. A small bit of him was nervous. Perhaps what he had learned wasn't enough? Perhaps he was still too weak? Perhaps this would prove to be another failure? 

No. He couldn't think that, must not think it. He would win. He had to. 

A faint sense of someone else being present in the room made the Rumpus Cat look around in the basement. The Twins had materialized again. He was so used to them doing that now that he only recognized their presence with a polite nod. They returned the gesture. The Rumpus Cat turned back to look out the bars of the aperture. 

"Here goes," he muttered. 

* * *

Queen snarled and snapped after the enemies. She had stopped seeing them as dogs at all, for they were not worthy of it. Her eyes jumped from one growling face to the other, trying to find the guilty one. The one who had murdered King. 

Was it that one? The Peke with yellow teeth and muddy fur? Had those teeth been biting her beloved's neck, making him bleed and whine in agony? Had those large, clumsy paws dared go near King's face without shivering and shaking, like they should have? 

Or was it that other one, the smelly, old thing who wouldn't be worthy of licking the ground that King walked upon? He who was eyeing her appreciatively, as if he didn't know that she was taken, forever taken, by the greatest dog of them all? 

It didn't matter. She would fight them all. Perhaps she would die in this battle, she knew that. But at the moment, her life didn't matter. What was important, was revenge. She would get sweet satisfaction, she would die happily, if she could only rip out the throat of the one who had slain her mate before she drew her last breath. 

Queen suddenly noticed that the leader of the Pom tribe was there. The poodle stood next to the Peke chieftain, yapping with her shrill, ear-piercing voice, a nice contrast to Tahmores's dark baritone. 

Had not Queen been so angered by the poodle's betrayal, she would have noticed what a lovely pair the two leaders made. The poodle, lady Regina Cheyenne La Drottning, was small and white, and her fur was perfectly coiffed. She was not a fighter, but her teeth were needle-sharp and would cause considerable damage if used. She was in every inch a lady. 

Tahmores, the Pekingese, was a proud warrior. His size may have given you the impression that he was weak, when he was anything but. In ancient times, his kin had been the dogs of royalty, only allowed to be owned by members of the Chinese Imperial Palace. The look in his eyes confirmed that though his reign may have diminished over the centuries, the memory was still vivid to him. He looked at the opposing forces without flinching. 

Queen looked at her own side. She still had Artaxiad, the strong Pug male. He was quite handsome, and a fierce fighter, even though he could obviously never rival King. Many years of living on the streets had made him tough, and having to fight to keep his position in the pack forced him to always be alert. She was proud to have him on her side. 

The barking made her ears ring. She felt resolve build up inside, and knew that the moment of truth was approaching. This was just the beginning. Soon she would have her vengeance. 

She opened her mouth to charge her troops forward, when something happened. A cat came out of a nearby basement flat. This was indeed peculiar, since cats kept inside during Pollicle war. They might have been vicious little bastards, but they were not stupid. So this particular cat daring to come out was a thing worth noticing. 

It stretched out and yawned before looking out over the area. He was completely composed as he did so; Queen had never seen a cat so calm in the presence of dogs. His eyes were red as taillights. His coat was black as midnight. Queen recognized the type of creature he was. 

A warrior. 

She felt Artaxiad take a step back, and she looked at him. 

"What is the matter with you?" she growled. "It is just a cat." 

"I have heard of a cat like that," he replied. "There have been rumours in my ranks. We have had a recent outbreak. Ten of my Pugs left the pack, but you know how it is. Outlaws are so rarely alone." 

"Nine times out of ten, they leave family behind," said Queen and nodded. "What of it?" 

"Not long ago there was talk of a cat who fought like a demon," said the Pug leader. "His fur was black, and he had a strange mark on his chest. He killed a dog." Artaxiad frowned. "I do not like this." 

"A cat that killed a dog? That is not possible. The rumours must have been just that." 

Queen returned to the impending battle, but it was hard to concentrate with those red eyes watching her every move. She decided to ignore them, and threw her head back to howl her final command... 

It began. Not in the way that Queen had thought, but in the way that the Mystical Jellicle Twins had decided. Suddenly the mysterious cat was right in the middle of the opposing dog tribes, standing as still as a statue. 

A Pom reached him first. She readied herself, fully prepared to tear the foolish cat limb from limb, when a black paw shot out and hit her squarely on the nose. It was not a hard punch, but it was enough to leave her dazed and confused. With a whimper, the Pom fell to the ground, her eyes crossed. 

Immediately, or at least is immediately as possible after the shock had settled, the cat had every dog present against him. They attacked at once, trying to squash him between them. For a moment the cat was completely hidden underneath the dog bodies, and Queen decided that it must have been trampled to death. She didn't bother much with it. She had better things to do than look after foolish felines. 

The sounds of battle washed over her. Dogs were biting, scratching, whining all around her. The noise was not of this world. Her vision shrank until the Pollicles fighting were no more than vague shape in the corner of her eye. She was looking. She was going to find the guilty one, and she had decided that no other but Tahmores could have done it. 

She would rip him to pieces. There would not be a single drop of blood left of him when she was done. Then she would be even. Then she would be pleased. 

That never happened. Suddenly, and without warning, Queen felt how something caught her by the throat. It was like running into a hidden wire, except that she found herself stuck in it. She searched frantically for an explanation and a way to get loose, for the grip cut off her air supply. To her surprise she saw Tahmores right in front of her, caught in a similar grip. It was a black paw, she noticed. 

"NOW!" 

The voice was strong, wild, untamed. It was the roar of a lion, if Queen had known such a thing. After the word had rung out, the sounds of battle stopped. The dogs ceased barking. The wounded stopped whimpering. All eyes turned to the two leaders, both trapped in paws that would not yield. Slowly the mysterious cat lowered his catch, and Queen and Tahmores found themselves staring into his wild eyes. 

Neither of them had ever thought that they would fear a cat. There was just something about this special one that made them want to look at the ground and put their tails between their legs. It was not his strength that made them feel uneasy. It was that he did not show any signs that he was afraid of them, and a cat should always fear a dog. 

Then the cat began to speak. 

Afterwards, it was the battle that would be remembered, short though it had been. Stories of war seldom have the time to tell about things that were said and not done. 

"Some of you already know me, but for those of you who have not yet had the pleasure: I am Rumpus Cat. I do not fear your ranks, whether it be Pollicles, Pekes, Pugs or Poms. Your pitiful barks do not scare me." He glared at them, and Queen and Tahmores both suddenly felt like naughty puppies. "You have both lost members of your tribes to this war. Friends. Family members. So have I. My people have always been the ones to suffer most from your stupidity. This ends now!" 

His eyes sought Queen, and when they landed on her she felt as if they saw right through her. 

"We all lose people," he said, his voice almost a purr. "That is what happens when you fight. You lose. But that is not a reason to keep fighting, just one more to stop. Every killed puppy, every slain friend, is a reason to stop. Only you can do this. I am here to show you. This is not the answer." He leaned closer to Queen, and whispered in her ear. His whiskers tickled her. "You have puppies at home. They do not need a warrior to protect them. They need a mother. They need a family. No one else can give them that but you, Pollicle Queen. Do you understand me?" 

She nodded, too terrified to say anything. The Rumpus Cat smiled. 

"Good." He turned to Tahmores. "And you... you have lost too. You think that if you keep fighting, the lost things will come back to you again. It does not work that way. You know that." 

The Peke nodded as well. He seemed to be looking for a way to get out, anything at all. This was highly embarrassing, but he couldn't free himself from the Rumpus Cat. 

"Now I'm going to let you go," said the hero calmly. "When I do, I want you to run away home, as fast as you can. I know that you may not ever be best friends, but as long as I am around, you are going to have to tolerate each other. If you don't, I know where to find you." He smiled, fangs bared. "Hold back your troops. The war is delayed." 

He let go of his grip, and the two leaders could breathe again. There was one long, awkward moment as they looked at each other. They were both fighting a completely private battle inside their heads, a battle between their sense of self-preservation and their hatred of the other. The park was completely silent. Even the sirens of the Fire Brigade had gone quiet. The four packs were waiting. 

"Very well," said Queen finally, after clearing her throat. "Let's... go then." 

She took a few steps to the side and started to walk, painfully aware that every eye was on her. She desperately wanted to do something, to reach out and tear the Peke's throat out, but suddenly she saw her puppies in front of her inner eye. They would be waking up from their nap right about now... They'd be hungry. They'd call out for her, for she was their mother, the only one they had. 

Queen smiled a little. Her oldest son, Princeling, he would become a great Pollicle one day. If she started to train him now, she would get him in shape until his time came to take the power. She would teach him about his brave father. He would be a new King... It would be nice to come home. 

Queen looked over her shoulder and gave the Rumpus Cat a nod. He looked surprised, but then he nodded back. The Pollicle leader left the park, her pack in tow. They were a little ruffled from the short fight, but nothing too serious. They'd live. 

'They'll live,' she thought contentedly. 

* * *

When the Pollicles left, so did the Pugs, and after that the Poms. The Pekes were the ones that stayed a little longer, and finally the Rumpus Cat had enough and chased them away. When the park was finally empty and the birds had started singing in the trees again, he sat down and breathed out in relief. He had done it. He really had done it. It had been sort of an anticlimax, but it was done, he had succeeded. 

It felt rather odd. 

He curled up in the grass, in the sunshine, enjoying the weather. It would be a warm day, hopefully calm too. Suddenly a shadow fell over him. He didn't even bother to look up. 

"Hello M.," he said. 

"Hello Pounce." There was a light thud as the magician sat down beside him. "Quite a nice weather we've got." 

"Mm-hm." 

Mistoffelees tilted his head. "You seem quite bummed out for some reason. Anything you'd like to share?" 

The Rumpus Cat sighed and rolled over on his back. "Not really." He paused to think. "Well yeah. It's over. I mean, I think it's over. In the end, I didn't solve things by being the Rumpus Cat at all. I did by talking to them. Like Pouncival." 

"You also scared the living daylights out of them, as Rumpus Cat," Mistoffelees pointed out kindly. 

The Rumpus Cat grinned. "Yeah... That's true. Still. It feels sort of... disappointing. I went through all that training and, well..." He shrugged. "I suppose it'll make sense later on." 

"Next time will be better," promised the magician. "This ending sort of felt like a let-down." 

"Yes, I had been expecting an explosion. In which the bad guys die." 

"This isn't a comic book, though. And no one else was supposed to die." 

Pouncival shrugged. "Next time will be better." 

"Yeah, let's hope so."

* * *

**A/N:** Epilogue will be up on Thursday. 


	10. Epilogue

**Taij Zann Rung:** Nope, sorry, I won't continue on this story. However, there might be another little installment in the Rumpus Cat Chronicles in the future, because I have an idea that I'd like to explore... We'll see how that goes.  
**Sleeping Tiger:** The police dog had gone into the Wellington Arms long before Rumpus showed up at the scene, so he wasn't in the story. .:nods:.

**EPILOGUE  
Six months later**

The kitten yowled with fear as she saw the car coming right at her. She knew it was going to run her over, but fear had paralysed her, and she could do nothing but sit there and watch the BMW close in. Terrified, her eyes snapped shut. She could not bear to watch... 

Suddenly she was lifted off the ground as someone ran by, picking her up by her neck. It was over in a flash, the car drove by, and the kitten found herself standing on the sidewalk with a grinning black tom beside her. She gaped at him. 

"You're _him_..." 

"Fidelina! Fidelina, where are you, my darling?" The kitten's mother hurried up to her daughter and nuzzled her lovingly. "There you are..." She became aware of the black tom, and flinched before she saw the R on his chest. "Oh..." 

"He saved me from the car, mama," said little Fidelina proudly. "It's him you see, the one that they all talk about..." 

"I can see that, darling," her mother said and smiled at the Rumpus Cat. "Thank you for saving my little princess. Would you like to come inside for a sip of cream?" 

She showed on her house, a grand place. Her humans must be quite wealthy. The Rumpus Cat grinned and saluted her. 

"I very much appreciate it, ma'am, but I have a previous engagement," he said. 

Before she could start insisting, he was gone. Seemingly without even trying he climbed up the pipes of a house and ran across the roof. He soared through the air, as close to flying as you could come without actually having wings. A couple of blocks away from a certain junkyard he slowed down, and rested behind a chimney as he changed out of his disguise. Then he jumped down from the roof and landed perfectly on four paws. He didn't allow himself to stay long, but continued jogging down the street. 

"Late, late, late, late, so very, very late..." 

Pouncival hurried into the junkyard, adjusting the Pug hat on his head. To his great relief he noticed that there was no order whatsoever yet, and the actors were merely milling about. A couple of toms, among them Mistoffelees, were practicing their dance routines in a corner, murmuring the steps to themselves. Mistoffelees was wearing his silly plaid Pollicle hat, which made Pouncival snigger as he walked up to them. 

"I didn't miss anything, did I?" 

Mistoffelees didn't break a beat as he danced, slowly and rhythmically. "One, two, three... Hey Pounce... Four, five, six, seven... No, you're just in time, actually. Munkustrap hasn't started yet." He paused and started stretching. "Any interesting story to tell today?" 

Pouncival shrugged. "Just a kitten who'd gotten herself in front of a car, and I believe there was a robbery going on in a jewellery store over in Notting Hill, but otherwise things have been quiet." 

"Good." The magician carefully adjusted hit hat. "Tonight is a rather special night." He smiled. "How are you feeling?" 

"I feel really good." Pouncival looked at the gathered Jellicles and grinned a little. "Got my own song." 

They were all there, his tribe. Munkustrap was bustling around, trying to set things right. Poor tom. He fought a losing battle. The junkyard was a mess and had to be made clean for the Jellicle Ball tonight, and the cats themselves were uncaring of the protector's woes. 

Munkustrap brought his paws together and bellowed: "Okay everybody, let's begin this play then! Admetus, stop goofing off, for Heaviside's sake, you're the Great Rumpus Cat!" 

He glared at Admetus, who grinned mischievously and ran off to his hiding place to wait for his cue. The kittens who had been admiring his outfit sighed in disappointment, but hurried to their positions when Munkustrap gave them a stern look. 

"I'm confused," said Mungojerrie nervously and tried to scratch himself behind the ear with the cardboard box covering his paw. "When is my cue to start barking, again?" 

Munkustrap sighed deeply. He'd had many problems with the calico siblings, and not just talking about the play. Not that long ago, after having lived among the Jellicles for six months, they had come up to him. Rumpleteazer had been pale and almost in tears while Mungojerrie's usually merry face had been a mask of fear. They had told him about their mission. They had told him that they were agents of Macavity, sent out to spy on the Jellicles and report back to him, which they had been doing. But now things were different. Because now Rumpleteazer was with kittens, and she wanted a place where she knew they would be safe. That place was not with Macavity. He must never know they existed in the first place. 

"Is he the father?" had Munkustrap asked, and Rumpleteazer had nodded and started weeping. 

So Munkustrap had discretely spoken of the matter with Jennyanydots, who had promised that she'd find a safe haven for Rumpleteazer and her brother with humans. Not a week ago, the siblings had moved into a family in Victoria Grove, which was ideal. Mungojerrie still checked in with Macavity occasionally, to keep up the illusion that they were still working for him, and he said that Rumpleteazer was ill. In reality, they were both double agents now. 

And Mungojerrie was proven to have a lousy memory, even when it came to simple matters like barking on demand. 

"Every other time," said Munkustrap for the fifth time that afternoon. "If you could just remember that when Rumpleteazer has barked, it's your turn." He looked over at Pouncival and Mistoffelees in the corner. "Oi, you two! Could you possibly get over here so that we can start the rehearsal sometime today?" 

"Sorry Munks," said Pouncival humbly and joined his fellow Pollicles over on Mungojerrie's side of the stage. 

'They got a lot of things wrong,' he thought. 'The Peke should be male and the Pollicle should be female, because that's how it was. And there was more fighting going on before I scared them off. And they cut my speech completely. I was so proud of that, too.' 

He tried to concentrate. This was not the time to think about tiny little details, but to try and entertain Old Deuteronomy. The old cat had gotten back from his holiday with Grizabella alone and sad, since they had spent the entire trip arguing and she had left in the end, and he had missed the entire battle. It had been Munkustrap's idea to make a show out of it to bring his father up to date with the events. 

Pouncival looked at the tail of Admetus, which was still sticking out of his hiding place behind a junk pile. He didn't envy the younger cat for getting the best part in the show. Being first Pollicle in the march was also quite of a challenge. He had to remember a little bit of song, even. 

The hero in disguise focused on the words of the marching song. Tonight he would be normal. He would not go out. He would stay home with his tribe and celebrate the mystical divinity of unashamed felinity, and he would just be Pouncival for a little while. 

He smiled contentedly. Just Pouncival. 

Pouncival the hero. 

_End._

* * *

**A/N:** This is actually the longest, finished fanfic I've ever written... A big thank you to all kind reviewers for your support! 


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